Haiku

renewed

my subscription

to spring

Frogpond

Tanka Prose

GOING SOLO

 

Gardening today and we are up early. Summer annuals, three dozen, (give or take a few. I’ve lost count) await in their small, utilitarian  containers to be transplanted into larger, decorative containers in the patio. It’s quiet here. There is never much road traffic in front, and neighbors are at a distance and rarely heard. On one side are tall privet hedges, on the other, a wide grassy slope, and in the back, a wooded ravine, home to  birds, chipmunks, squirrels, and deer.

 

The plants are an array of colors:  orange marigolds, pink and white begonias, red geraniums, purple petunias, multi-colored zinnias. We fill the planters with potting soil, add water, work it in.  Choose which plants to go where. Combine different plants in one container or keep them separate? We differ and have a coffee break. As happens every year, there are enough plants and containers to please us both. 

 

By the time the noon whistle blows we are finished. The flowers are in the planters, tools put away and patio swept, table and chairs and umbrella brought out from the garage . We stand back and admire our own bit of Eden. 

 

promises 

of forever and ever

know not reality

but only youth’s springtime

when love is in bloom

Contemporary Haibun Online

 

Tanka

 briefly visiting

a cardinal comes. . .

nibbles . . .gone

silent is his approach

silent is my pleasure

TSA Anthology

Haibun

FROM MY WINDOW

 

 

Spring is gearing up. At the far end of the front yard, where it rises to meet the road, crocus splash yellow, white and purple.  Stems on the lilac bushes are knobby with green tipped leaf buds. Daffodils, some just poking through the soil, some already at their full height with swollen flower buds ready to burst.  Through the open window the breeze is damp, ripe with the fragrance of wet dirt, last year’s leaves and manure from the field around the bend.  There are busy calls from unseen birds and announcing honks from another gaggle of geese.  There is, in this moment, everything that there is.

 

                                                               coffee brewing

                                                               the anticipation

                                                               before the first sip

Cattails