The words and tune to this old song float through my brain. Summer. Early morning yoga, coffee, horses fed, flowers watered, a lazy lunch: salad with feta, black beans with caramelized onions. Slouched, reading a book (The Return, Hasham Matar) on the sofa, feet crossed on edge of coffee table, patio doors open, I hear birdsong, the whir of black fans in the ceiling sea of white. Summer. Nap time. Awaken slowly, eyes watching cotton candy clouds barely move across an azure sky. Summer.
storm clouds at sunset
reflections in gold
sunrise over canyon wall
shimmering heat of a summer day
sun sinking behind cedars
Since I felt out of sync with writing and accomplishing little in that vein, I decided I needed a challenge. In spite of two published books, one instructive, non-fiction and the other a book of poems, I never attempted writing haiku. Even though I probably, due to teaching schedule among other activities like singing and horses, cannot write one haiku a day, I committed to writing seven a week. The first thing I noticed is the difficulty. Haiku poems may be short; however, getting them even close to “right” remains quite difficult, a real challenge. Here are the first three written this week:
milkweed rising to the sun
wait for monarchs
who never ever come
cirrocumulus clouds fly
across an azure sky
snowflakes and cottonballs
OPI Bogota Blackberry
on my freshly scrubbed feet
walks along in wonder
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