butwait.blogspot.com || At least one haiku I am comfortable sharing. Every day.
tree swallows swoopingout and back over the fieldjust because they can
some day he'll be gone —what can we work to build nowthat should exist then?
belted kingfisherwaiting patiently beside the lakeuntil we find him
slanted evening sunpicking up the purple seedsat the tops of sawgrass
coastal flooding —hurricane season reminds us who's boss
yellow flicker —the day squeaks openon a rusty hinge
orange skimmers onthe zinnias, then the yarrow —so many choices!
birdbath bluejay —the flashy red cardinal waits his turn
he sends us selfiesso we can appreciatehis first dress shirts
tiny bits of downleft behind by the birdsafter their bath
so far up the oakwe have to look straight up —yellow-bellied sapsucker
anniversary —fourteen years of savingroom for dessert
stealthy hermit thrushpulled by curiositycomes to check us out
city street trees — leaves hanging lowin the summer heat
brush trucksscooping up all our trimmings —metallic soundscape
we cut back bambooto give the ironwood room —sky is to be shared
Venus the brighterwith Jupiter edging in —our pre-dawn light show
children moving out —my friend and I trade storiesof stifled advice
rememberingthat not looking sometimes works —a few more fireflies
trying to picturethe world as it could be starting from this place
scared day laborerstranslating for each otherat the council hearing
four am brain whirl —lining up letters for mynext protest sign
stilt grass erasingthe footpath along the lake —we walk the memory
getting olderyet every full moonremains the same
chickadees in frontcheerfully sharing the newsof the safer spots
smoke from farawayfires we can't even see —the birds fly lower
peach season —we dream of the feeling of juice dripping down
a chipmunk shrieks outa warning as we walk past —we scary monsters
watching the streamof wasn't meant to beflow on by
sweet corn season —my mother asking us tohusk it on the stoop
the lightest rainresurrects a childhood dream —dodging the drops