Una tarde abrasador pero ventoso ~
¡Cómo Dios se adora a sí mismo!
Mientras leo el Corán,
pasa las páginas muy por delante de mí en su excitatión.
Gray weekend ~
nothing but spoons o’
peanut butter.
¡I e’en forgot the music last sunset!
March 30, 2018, on the road home from groceries, our poet encounters ‘nother sunrise…
April drops ~
already I feel
the ocean horizon.
April drops ~
their sheer weight leaves
speckled shadows.
¡Yes, photos!
tonight the camera
joins the party.
Day o’ new hatching ~
on this year,
it is a prank.
Note: If one were to ask me my favorite character in Lord of the Rings, ’twould have to be the place o’ Morder in all its beautifully-described ugliness.
The scent of
petrol & warm rain ~
Middle March.
Note: as usual, there was a delay ’tween the publication o’ this haiku & its inspiring event ( the time @ which I, unfortunately ’gain, forgot to bring my camera ) — hence the dissonance ’tween “middle march” & this publication date.
Also, I know Eriador is low lands — ’twas the least inaccurate comparison I could find.
Middle March ~
sunny streets stare down
fog mountains.
Still-young spring ~
a foreign bus stop,
ants return.
St. Martin After Irma: The Beaches Are Dazzling but There’s Work to Do
The beaches ~
dazzling, but there is
work to do.
On the road home from groceries, our poet encountered a sunrise…
No photos 🙁 ~
camera hibernates
deep in spring.
Spring sunset ~
its sexiness is always
ending.
Mountains whose orange
is a bit grayer
in the back.
E infine…
Ciel rose perlé ~
au-dessus de
mots en toc sur Dieu.
Kalter, regnerischer Morgen ~
verzicht auf cremigen Kaffee
für bitteren Tee.
