luminous feathers
to deepest cornstalk, the grass
softens the hot sun
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
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
Breathless Woods Haiku
in the breathless woods
I hear the treetops rustling
and I am at peace
Breathing Trees Haiku
cool breath of the trees
pulls me into shade beyond
the hot July sun
Hot May Haiku: Breathless Woods
in the breathless woods
wind blows in the tops of trees
and rustles their leaves
Early Summer Haiku: Bare Feet
bare feet in the grass
hot sun overhead, in May
with my sandals off
Ferry Beach Maine Haiku
last swim of summer
cold like needles on the skin
but the waves buoy me
August Hosta Haiku
hosta’s blooms are done
empty stalks curling upward
point toward autumn
Midday Walk Haiku
St. John’s wort drooping
from the weedy embankment
in the hot July sun
Garden of Words 