Tom Clausen Home
(3) Standing Here ( 1998)
Home | Home page | Bio for Tom | Haiku & Senryu -definitions/ thoughts | Haiku Chapbooks ( 1) Autumn Wind in the Cracks (1994) | (2) Unraked Leaves ( 1995) | (3) Standing Here ( 1998) | Homework (2000) Snapshot Press, UK | being there (2005) Swamp Press | Tanka chapbooks (1) A Work of Love (1997) Tiny Poems Press | Growing Late- (2006) Snapshot Press | A Haiku Way of Life | Assorted Haiku | Assorted Senryu | Assorted Tanka | Haibun | Favorite Links | Dim Sum -Tom | Robert T. Clausen | Favorite Haiku | Favorite Senryu | Favorite Tanka | Zen Entries | Memorable Quotes | Dalai Lama | Death Poems | Cat Poems | Dog Poems | Train Poems | Longer poems | Song Lyrics | Rt. 9 Haiku Group | Rt. 9 Haiku Group-Tom 3-23-06 | Haiku Circle (6-02-07) | 4-21-09 Mann Library reading | My email address:

Standing Here  ( 1998)  self published


the rubber duck alone

in the empty tub




standing here

at this window, remembering mother

standing here




my child asks

what keeps the moon up?

you do, I reply




the door open

to the meditation room

no one there







behind opaque glass

snow falls




bitter cold morning-

compressed with the trash

some of sunrise




quiet evening-

a spider walks its shadow

across the wall




goldenrod gall


blowing snow




winter moor-

my footsteps come back

to me




dark morning snow

the bus packed

with faces




light snow...

the students study

in silence




late afternoon-

pigeons bank back to

the building




watering their plants

seeing their house

without them




last ray of sun

in the feeder

a sparrow





deep inside

a light






a stranger smiles-

the elevator closes

and goes up




my son asks

how far it goes

... space




lunch alone

without a book

I read my mind





ants disappearing

into cracked earth




still summer night-

shining a flashlight

around the garden




for my son:

lifting a stone

to see




formal garden-

a cabbage butterfly’s






the delicate breeze

among the ferns




cold front

the forgotten dulcimer





heavy rain-

lilac blooms smush

against the window




lying in the leaves

the sun shares the shape

of her corduroys






sentinel pine-

roots running every which way

showered in moonlight




deep overcast-

chickory blue

out of concrete rubble




late day sun-

deep on the forest floor

a seedling




beach walking...

collecting pebbles

and letting them go




floating in its own

little place in the rocks

a diet Coke can




quietly, he goes about

reading the names

grave by grave




early autumn blue-

last turn out of town

facing the hills




as we talk...

wind blowing leaves

out of the trees




snow flurrying...

the deer, one by one, look back

before they vanish




in the dark

through the window light

my wife and child