Friday haiku 110

On the horizon
The day after Thanksgiving
A lone wild turkey

Friday haiku 109

Call it a day
Call it whatever you like
No one owns the sunrise

Friday haiku 107

If water is life
The sky is immortal
Sigh the trees, fading.

Friday haiku 106

Out in the country
Even the pigeons
Know your name

False idylls

Ah, we say, what a life!
and yet …

We are the heirs of discontent
we carry all colors among us
to their inevitable conclusion

Our eyes are rising swiftly
under an aging sun

What nourished our forebears
we find merely annoying
All those Bible Prophets mute
as sacks of sand

To build dikes against
a flood which never comes
and yet …

here we stand
precisely in their footpads