october’s reward
for tromping through the woods:
a golden feather
September 11 Haiku
It was a Tuesday
We watched the Towers come down
I covered my mouth
Last Rose of Summer Haiku
He doesn’t like me to say
When the last rose of summer gives way
But I am not grieving, just noticing
Sycamore Moon Haiku
a half moon perches
in the sycamore’s branches
light blooms on the hills
Cool, Misty May 1 Haiku
steam rises from mulch
as a gardener rakes it
between the flowers
Haiku from Warmer Days
Today, the first snow of the winter came whispering down. In cold weather, smells don’t carry as well. Winter brings with it a different kind of beauty made of solitude, clarity, and dreams in the dark. Here’s a moment from warmer days to dream of:
After dark in the park
the feathery larch
smells me her secrets
October Foliage Haiku
sun descends into
the leaves of the maple trees
and sets them aglow
Last Day of September Haiku
wind rustles the leaves–
a different song in autumn
than it played in June
Autumn Equinox Haiku
bees and butterflies
still kiss the purple flowers
in the crisp, bright air
Indian Summer Haiku
a great stillness hangs
in the stifling air, but temps
in the 70s
Garden of Words 