More Haiku

Glowing copper moon
Through clouds above Brighton Pier
Sinking away soon.

Along Fieldgate lane,
An invisible breather
Moves through cedar tops.

My conceited words,
Like facades decked in fool’s gold,
Ward off even friends.

A dry autumn wind
Rattles the last of the leaves
On our dark High Street.

Outside of London
It’s worth the rigorous road
To Darwin’s small home.

Kenilworth lighthouse,

Haloed by the slanted light

Of the autumn sun