FIRST SPRING
In the Swiss village the first stirrings of spring come early and fast. Tiny, yellow primroses sprout in the woods through patches of snow. Farmers begin their planting. Corn, rape, wheat. Every day, the chug of tractors . Swiss mist in the air, the liquid fertilizer made from manure, pungent and pervasive. Flower gardens shout spring with daffodils and tulips. Window boxes appear in full bloom like splashes of paint against the gray stone buildings.
the scent of lilacs
fading with dusk
thoughts of home
World Haiku Review
THE DINER
Just as first constructed–chrome, Formica, pale shades of mauve and gray accented with darker maroon on the counter stools and the trim of the booths. Juke boxes still at each booth. Although not working, they still have the song- lists of more than 50 years ago.
If you want a big meal or a light snack it's available from 6:00 a.m. until 10:00 p.m. every day.
Three o'clock in the afternoon is a quiet time to come. Coffee and maybe a pastry, my notebook, a book to read, and a picture window view of the village's main street are there waiting.
connecting the past
a heavy mug of coffee
to warm my hands
World Haiku Review
