Haiku Poetry

Carnival music 

plays softly to quiet chairs 

and empty tables.

I'm staring so hard 

at the seascape and the sky 

it's now in my head 

I close my eyes tight 

and peer into the blackness 

and there is ocean

Two white rockets race, 
powered only by dreaming, 
dissolving in space.

The pilots are whimsy, 
their course never realised. 
Just clouds after all.

How can a morning

that looks this good, be anything

but wonderful, for a gull?