butwait.blogspot.com || At least one haiku I am comfortable sharing. Every day.
front yard bunny —a smaller younger versionhopping gingerly
fields of firefliesrenewing their vows —'til dawn do us part
heat-weary sparrowwatching us as if to sayplease don't make me fly
while we were awaya new constellation —blooming zinnias
on the forest floorwe can only hear the rain —trees keeping us dry
our yard has a holefrom a tree limb that fellfive years ago now
strawberry moon —still feeling the sun's warmthwhere it kissed my cheeks
early summer sun —the sound of grains of sandfalling as they dry
three sibling goslingspaddling under the dock —grass for lunch again
more than enoughsunlight for every leaf —summer solstice
warming upoutside my open window —the cricket chorus
water protectorsin fields of wild rice —look down to see sky
iridescent wings —late day sun trippingover cicadas
I tell my friendswhat my father would have said —perennials coming back
leaves turning their backsas the clouds pile up —anticipation
tiny prairie warblerspinning her notes uppast the tree tops
as the rain beganI looked over and saw youdeciding to stay
warm June nights —we choose our pajamasonly to take them off
wider every morning —silver mound artemisiaclaiming some more space
we carry their bagswhile the hikers hike on to the next gap
even in my dreamI remember who was here —Lenni Lenape
standing at the edgedigging my toes in the sand —hold onto summer
dropping inthrough our broken chimney —all manner of things
evening primrose —a new universe of blossomsevery morning
my neighbor sharesnews of her father's passing —the trees take a breath
(for A.L.)
softly trailing meon my late night walk —scent of wisteria
when you tryto get back into a dream —first love
we talk backto the chimney-stuck cicada —no one's winning
holes boarded upthat could have been doors —barn owls circling
Pride month —listening for some new notesin the dawn chorus
