Summer Haiku
We're edging into the solstice, the start of summer. These poems were written a couple years ago but my days this summer will likely be much the same:
Fog crowds the foothills—
August and an alien rain.
Log trucks hiss then dance.
Dawn’s pink blue rising
is a window shade pulled up,
clouds descending down.
Green metal lawn chairs
for studying the garden
breathe sap, exhale rust.
Dahlias drink in sunlight.
Hummingbirds flit by the
red begonia.
Ice in a puddle,
crumbs a slice of lunchtime on
a chipped yellow plate.
