After a while, you think you see it, but it’s just a firefly. You think you hear it, but it’s just a skylark. The smell of fresh-cut grass, of steaming horseshit on a frosty morning, the hairs on a gooseberry, breaking waves ... the flaws on the moon’s old face, the void beyond the farthest star.

	my wild eyes 
		she asks what I’m on 
			just the computer  

Keith Evetts

is a retired British diplomat who lives in the UK. His scientific papers are published in Nature and elsewhere; his long-form poetry in The Oxford Magazine and Linnet’s Wings; his cherita in The Cherita; and his haiku and related short forms in Blithe Spirit, Cattails, Cold Moon Journal, Failed Haiku, Heliosparrow, Mambu, Presence, Prune Juice, The Asahi Shimbun, Wales Haiku Journal, World Haiku Review, and at The Haiku Foundation. His work has been anthologized in the Red Moon Anthologies of haiku and haibun, and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Touchstone Awards.

Evetts is listed among the European Top 100 Haiku Authors in 2021, and hosts the weekly haiku commentary feature at The Haiku Foundation. He’s married, with five children, a grey parrot, and a sense of humour.