.post-body entry-content { margin-top: 15px; margin-bottom: 15px; }

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

One by One They Fly

This sweet smelling day,
Filled with lilacs and shadows
And fickle sunshine.


 It's the end of May;
Breeze is whispering "summer"
Winter can't be found.

Is it a new dance?
The girls shake their arms and hands,
Brushing away gnats.


 Muted woodpecker
Tentatively pecks on tree.
(Must be a beginner.)

One by one they fly:
Seeds in the dandelions;
Soon they'll all be gone.


 Two friends on the road,
One two legged, one four
Stop to say hello.


A gentle flopping,
Leaves and a branch fall to the road
With a soft whooshing.


 As summer draws near
Haiku becomes more difficult--
Many distractions.


 Indiana's teeth
Were three more, two days ago--
Absence is presence.


Monday, May 26, 2014

Proud Prince of Pecking

Cloudy in late May;
Seventy-four birthdays gone--
Memorial Day. 


Green leaves on tree tops,
Drinking in the light of the sun
Hold it a moment.

Perfume crossed my nose;
Which flowers are the culprits?
So many choices

With cries of triumph
Two geese slide to a landing
On the placid pond.

Goats and hens are gone;
Field is left to the robin--
Proud Prince of Pecking!

A single violet
Amidst the green ground cover
Chose its place wisely.

Testing my resolve
Billion bugs buzz at my eyes--
True meditation.

Quietly jogging
She vanishes around bend--
Poof! And then she's gone!

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Dropped by an Angel

The low flying plane
Sounds like a bumble bee.
(Flowers are laughing)

My lonely red chair
Sitting empty for a year
Enjoys no tushies.


The bobbing robin
Lets go of the small tree branch
And flies to the sky.

On this sky blue day
A passing whiff of lilacs
And incessant bugs.

What do they desire
These million tiny insects
Plaguing my eyes?

The drop of water
Hanging from the slender branch
Does not know the sun.

Three people, two dogs
Disappear around the bend;
Murmur of voices.

Why do the shadows
Lift up the sunshine from road
And dapple it back?

Floating on the road
Feather, fine and indistinct
Dropped by an angel.

Friday, May 23, 2014

Puddly Mirrors

Why does the sun hide
When I need it's morning cheer?


There is a stillness;
Even leaves are not shaking
On this cloudy day.


 Each morning they point--
Yellow arrows on the road
To a past event.

So gently it drops,
Mist upon the tree tops,
Enveloping sound.

Puddly mirrors:
Always different reflections;
Always different skies.

Vine to the mail box
Climbing up to open it,
"Any mail for me?"

Mourning dove and fog;
Married in soft loneliness
On this late May morn.

Rain battered asters
Look very grumpy today,
Their petals askew.

Thursday, May 22, 2014

Like a Lone Musical Note

Not a ray of sun
On this moisture laden day;
Just the threat of rain.


 Pale purple lilacs
Adds color to the gray day
With eternal green.


 Between the wires
Like a lone musical note
The focused crow flies.


Carefree on its way
The unsuspecting auto
Swallowed by the fog.


 Bird chirping high
Cuts through the feathery fog
With little flashes.
That the tree is dead
Matters not to the ivy
Pursuing its climb.
Like a dried out wreath
Two large dead leaves suspended
From the evergreen.

Louder than called for
The bee moves around the bush
Humming and sucking.