Tall bare trees reach up so high.
A thick black blanket hugs the sky.
Will we have rain now or will that cloud scatter?
From my warm viewpoint that is no matter!
Now chattering sparrows arrive at the feeders, then
Six sparkling starlings – very fast eaters!
Two little blue tits cling to the suet ball
Lots of titbits break off and fall
down to the ground
where a blackbird I see
and a friendly little robin
looking in at me.
in the silent violet
fragrance
we found our true
voice
freed from the links
that formerly
held us back
and we found each
other’s mouth
taste of earth
and yard, life
and berries
Early every morning
Before my cup of tea
The birds in the garden
Sing their songs for me
The robin and the sparrow
and goldfinches too
Chattering starlings
A harmonious crew
New green buds
Are growing on the trees
Pansies, tulips and daffodils
Are dancing in the breeze
New growth
New beginning
Hopeful journeys
New me singing!
I see roses
weighing down the branches
of loaded bushes,
her delicate hand
caressing the chosen ones,
the shears glinting, solemn,
under the hot summer sun,
and I almost hear
the cries of the fallen.
blustery breeze
broken branches
memories of you
More at https://twitter.com/Haikuintraining.
Dying leaves are making the noise!
Can you listen their yelling voice?
They are shouting all around!
Over the golden broad ground!
Recall that time we used to rustle,
Chirping of birds, hustle and bustle,
Remember the time we gave you shades,
You sat the nearby when it fades,
We are made to enliven this planet,
Healthy plants, healthy planet,
O Man! Wake up and listen their cry,
Telling the pain of saying good bye!
Here is a secret they commend,
Every start has an end!
big road sign
pick them from trees like giants
apple harvest
jack-o-lantern orange pumpkins
sip sweet fall cider,
soft crisp crunch
fire engine red, red on green
row upon row, apple pickers pick
fall; composting clay, autumn ambrosia
in a bite
pumpkins overflow
stacked up high.
red barn store
wood baskets, barrels
sweet red paint balls
snatched from outstretched
witch’s hands, cajoling
their symmetry is
like poisonous snake venom
pears, vegetables
root beer logs, peppermint pieces
paper sack, homemade cookies
crumbly donuts dusted in snow
brown bag packed tight
like children bundled for snow
piled in car
headed to cradle.
Whistle creeps on quiet winds. drops pitter patter spills on pummeled, beaten, skin. rooftops clang like aluminum trays, rat-a-tat pots and pans tap. witch nails
scratch on shutter washboard. black eyed dogs howl at sooty moon, scat cat purrs to purple crack. creaky arms, sway, a carpet of twigs and needles, washed out. bumper cars crash and collide on slip ‘n slide roads. people roundup food and shovels in a madman dash. plows lay down salt, before the flakes fall.
A soft blue light erases my memory,
Crosses the depths of space to reveal my suburban Elysium.
Our soft linen basin feels exquisitely isolated,
Like an undiscovered subterranean cavern, or a vast, billowing cloud,
Floating silently through the troposphere.
We talk of everything. And nothing.
Your kiss sends a surging current right through me.
I kiss you back and I drink in your beauty, as if this were my last
moment on Earth.
Through gritty, parched eyes I squint,
As hazy boulevards wind ceaselessly ahead.
The soupy June air weighs heavy on my shoulders,
A cruel curse befitting of a cruel hour.
I snarl and thrash and seethe.
I pray for a swift end.
Highgate lovers, swathed in crumpled bedsheets,
Gaze down from high windows in dreamy, post-coital nonchalance.
The soft light emanating from their cigarettes reminds me where I
should be,
Where I should have stayed.
Her cascading onyx locks and melting stare, so far from here,
Snatched away in a frenetic dusk.
In the murky, nocturnal depths of this Hadean Borough,
The thought of fusing my weary torso to the elegant curve in her back
is a blissful escape.
To sweetly kiss the nape of her neck,
And watch that sensual smile paint joyously across her sculpturesque
face
…for a brief, heavenly moment, I’m there.
But mine is the oppressive still of a North London night,
Where bountiful summer trees loom black and menacing over deserted
pavements.
But lo, wrapped in my internal struggle I have omitted another.
One who neither pines, nor laments, nor regrets.
A weightless astronaut, he skulks through the night air with a humble
grace.
His sinewy frame, that restless, twitching muzzle,
An opportunist cat burglar, thriving in his concrete woodland.
He slows as I approach. A cautious arc. His marble eyes reflecting the
street lights above.
What does he see?
We halt in unison, we share the stillness.
His keen nose analyses my scent, his pointed ears flinch at my
slightest movement.
Such devotion to the senses is something I’ve long forgotten.
Suddenly I feel my heavy feet beneath me, notice my short, agitated
breaths.
This wild animal has coaxed me out of my own head, made me living
again.
He watches intently as I find the strength to move forward. Down this
path I myself chose.
And as I glance back, I ponder his sentience…did he share in my
epiphany?
Succumbing to sleep I envy the fox. Long to dream his savage,
unquestioning existence.