The haiku have been on hiatus (no, I couldn’t resist that line, would you have?) but now that we’re in for a long, dark time, I feel the need to write them again. So they’re back, now with photos.
Bright windless morning
Gulls cry, loud in the quiet
Sun glints on ripples
Hawk slides across moon
Circles up on rising drafts
A black speck, then gone
Patrol boat churns past
White wake rises, fades again
Glassy water shines
A Storm approaches
Feet stamp out cold on the doorstep
Inside, a roaring fire, soup,
and Haiku from Rozan
bring forth a smile.
Patrick — Thanks so much! I love being in the same category with a roaring fire and soup. I’m glad I helped make you smile.