Maybe She's Thirsty

Autumn misty rain;
Car music booms past the house;
Then, only silence. 

Tree branches are still;
Not a flutter in the leaves.
(Respect for the rain.)

Moist animal smell;
Mouth full, Olivia turns,
Chomping on her hay.

Delicate falling--
Dead leaves float their way to earth;
Others wait on trees.

Spider is waiting;
All she has caught are raindrops.
Maybe she's thirsty.

Beyond the dark woods
Light shines from the distant pond.
A lone bird cries out.

Public radio talks
In a car parked behind me--
Soft soothing voices.

Is it the weather
That puts me in this gray mood?
Let my sun come out.!

 

 09/04/2012

Incessant Voices

 

Suddenly, it's gray;
Labor Day's picky sunshine
Has just disappeared.

 

  

Dry leaves on the porch;
Moth flutters on the window;
I step into Fall..

Snoozing on the green
Hazel sleeps under the wash;
Not even a bark.

The road is gray now;
Not a ripple on the stream;
More and more dead leaves.

 

 

Muffled barking dog
Glides by me in a closed car;
Dry leaves keep falling.

It's almost rain now;
A breath of mist touches my face
Hinting at sprinkles.

Crowds walk on my road
Babbling and chattering;
Incessant voices.

Triumphant orange--
Jewel weed shines through the greyness,
Announcing Autumn.

A Trembling Green Leaf

 

A trembling green leaf
Against the railing's stillness.
A car rushes past.

 

Parallel phone wires;
Perpendicular porch slats--
A world of straight lines.

 

 Mourning dove hooting
Softly through the soft morning
Vies with distant plane.

Like frozen spiders,
Clenched fists, or tiny white blooms:
Queen Anne's Lace magic.

Brown leaves are falling;
One by one they make no fuss.
Soon, the avalanche.

How soft the green woods
As it melts into darkness
Beyond the sun's rays.

I stop for a pee;
White tail flashes out of sight;
Considerate deer.

Under the tall trees
A brief moment of coolness;
Then, the sunny road.

Painting What They See

 

Window reflection--
White, ghostlike, ephemeral;
Outside, green leaves shine.

 

A floating insect
Rises briefly in the sun,
Then leaves the spotlight.

Bark on my front lawn
Lights up in the morning sun;
Instantly alive.

 

At edge of the woods
Two figures sit silently
Painting what they see.

 

Silence envelopes--
A mottled sunlit blanket
On the shadowed road.

 

  

Other side of fence
A pink flower is growing.
It's just out of sight.

A baby pine tree
Grows from trunk of its mother--
Eternal birthing.

Just a splash of sun
Makes the translucent leaves glow
And dapples the woods.

The World's Her Haiku

Two months have passed in the twinkling of an eye that lasts forever. Such is the nature of creative time. Such is the nature of kid time. And I am back on my familiarly strange journey on Yerry Hill Road. What a pleasure. 

Sun splashing on lawn
Glowing green through tree leaves;
Adventure resumes.

Did I ever leave
Just ten weeks ago?
When did I return?

Watching the traffic,
Blue hickory lines the road
Marking summer's end.

Tight clenched little fists,
Queen Anne's Lace ready to burst
Into white brilliance.

Shadowed curving road
Twists back into memory;
Have only I changed?

 

Cool voice of the woods
Breathes softly across my face
Its pungent secrets.

A child's soft chatter,
Walking with mom by the road.
The world's her haiku.

Field of goldenrod
Nodding gently to the sun
Returns its favor.