haiku – Page 9 – Garden of Words

March 8 Haiku: Sixty-Five Degress

Copley Plaza, lunch:
wind flaps the ropes of flagpoles
sun opens our coats

hug the trees awake
feel the sap rising within
outside, no jacket

clouds obscure the sun
al fresco lunch in winter
dirty snow, green grass

afternoon sun slants
shows the marsh in a new light
witch hazel, hemlock

three deer in the trees
bound away with startled tails
tiny wild island

blessed solitude
first set of tracks on the trail
corbins cry above

boardwalk through the marsh
our feet disturb the thin snow
moss and lichen bloom

november picnic
climb the hill to the summit
and lay on the grass

sunlight on a house
wishing I knew how to paint
the palpable light

crawling in traffic
the sycamore whirlygigs
descend through sunlight

last leaves on the vines
russet and brown, dangling
above the garage

(give yourself permission to write bad poetry)