September Haiku

hurricane forecast–
from all directions
blue sky

chrysanthemum buds
a peek of magenta
on the tips

Russian sage
bees and butterflies…
butterflies and bees

Plant Sale

Plant Sale


On a cloudy, damp morning in May, a plant sale at the Institute of Ecosystem Studies. A full parking lot already at 10:00 a.m..

We walk through the rows admiring the different varieties of plants, reading labels, wishing we knew what we were doing. Familiar and unfamiliar names–spiraea, buxos, hosta, buddleia, euonymus. What we don't recognize outnumbers what we do.

Advice is welcome from a master gardener on the staff. We settle on hybrid daylilies in pale yellow.

rain chill–
a stop at the diner
for waffles

The Country and Abroad, August 2007

Trees

TREES

We live on top of a hill with trees all around–in a ravine behind the house and in thick rows on the edges of the property. Dogwood, maple, locust, apple, oak, ash, birch, several variety of pine, and others I can’t name..

They speak to me all day, every day, in voices soft and sibilant, slurred and shushing, fierce and bold. They whisper, they crash and bang. They can snap and crack when covered with ice; they can sing lullabies when in full leaf.

the summer night
in the breeze stories told
before I sleep

frogpond, autumn 2009

Haiga

Gean, March 2010

Haiga

Gean, June 2010

deer in the garden
unhurried in their walk
to the wooded ravine;
in this life I share
many paths with strangers

Red Lights, June 2010

Haiga

REGULARS

At the local Starbucks we meet. The same customers, not every visit, but often. A smile, a wave. “Hello. Hot enough for you? Cold enough?” Small chit-chat. “Live nearby? Have a nice holiday? See you next time.” Ed, Susan, Jim. First names only. Neither friends nor acquaintances, even. Yet…a contact, a welcome, a recognition, a belonging.

unknown wildflowers
blending
into a bouquet

Contemporary Haibun On-line, July 2010