Windows wide open
The sun surreptitiously
Lowers its angle
Friday haiku 95
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Windows wide open
The sun surreptitiously
Lowers its angle
Windows wide open
The sun surreptitiously
Lowers its angle
In this ancient light
The spirits of fisher folk
Dancing on the lake
In the antique shop
on the ground floor
of the building
where my parents lived
the year they married
I thought I heard someone
call my name
as if I lived there
too, so long before
my birth in the camp.
The spring wind sputters,
too tired to raise a ruckus,
bored already.
A sunlit patch in winter
the wild song of geese
returning