It's been over a month since we've had any substantial amount.
rain's hesitant taps
as if asking permission
after such a drought
tall loblolly pines
their needles a golden carpet
softening our steps
before their journey
geese glean carefully among
the tawny fields
I live near a highway, so I hear traffic noise any time of the day or night. Used to be I grumbled about being woken up by birds; now I hardly hear any this early.
over the traffic
piercing through the dim fall dawn
a single bird call
tired bumblebee
splayed out on a fall flower
both at their strength's end
the squirrel’s skitter
answers the leaves’ shuffle
walking down the trail
the old, forked oak
graciously accommodates
a tired hiker
not the target, yet
the heron takes flight, fleeing
a shotgun’s report
slow, silent circles
the kestrel watches and waits
drifting in the fall wind
Normally I post the haiku with the picture, but in this case the inspiration didn't come until later. 😆
restless, relentless
the questing mycelium
laid bare on a leaf
a fever broken,
windows open for cool nights:
finally, it's fall
it's too damn hot out!
attempting to summon fall:
pumpkin spice candle
autumn's first monarch
a dwindling migration
yet hope still flutters
the windchimes hang still
only the cicadas sing
to a leaden sky
velveted antlers
the young buck tosses his head
impatient for fall
summer's red result;
hard work's slow, well-earned reward:
that first tomato
Come to think of it, this is the first one I've heard all summer.
a rasping beacon
on a stifling summer night
his chirps unanswered
Walked a trail in a large park. There are parts where I can almost forget I'm still in the city. Not sure who was more startled- me, or the heron that sprang up out of nowhere at one point while I looked at a stream.
city sanctuary
the heron rises, silent
startled by my steps
garden inspector:
electric blue dragonfly
hovers in the heat
prefers the deep woods
small, occasionally prickly
creature of few words