edge of the water
red-winged blackbird sips a song
fishing from the banks
long pole reaches below waves
blue gill gulps fresh air
I found these two haiku on a scrap of paper floating in my writing room. It is very cold outside today but the sun shining through the lace curtains paused my mourning as I reached for the whimsical thoughts of yesterday.
*one more post from 1/7/2017
Alarm bells ringing leave me panicking. Did I do something wrong?
The only way i live is words.
If no one understands me how can i understand them?
Rivals: bitterness chokes forgiveness. Love dies. Hate wins. This reminds me, I have a sunny day, so off i go to weed.
Weeds. In the eye of the beholder. Im not against weeds or mosquitoes or snakes. I just prefer my boundaries be a free space brimming with plants of choice. Bee balm, coneflower, milkweed, hyssop, poppy, lily-of-the-valley, sunflowers, queen of the prarie, grasses…Bee and bird friendly!!
Listen to the bird talk, the words so ever sweet.–“Come join us in the garden, take a load off your feet.”–The melody is soothing, the fragrance i remember well.–The childhood summers lived, you, so right to tell.