Haiku 2022 - #617

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a drift

of starlings -

almost home

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Haiku 2021 - #432

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old treehouse -
still
kids only

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Haiku 2021 - #429

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my old fort -

a drift

of fall leaves

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Haiku 2011 - #39

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... home

in winter rain, the grosbeak

didn't make it ...

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Haiku 2010 - #893

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Three steps, black steps ...

last steps

home.

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An autumn breeze

sweeps the path

... home.

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Into sands

the ant carries the moth

... home.

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Well ...

at least her voice

has come home.

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Outside and this side
regretful things, autumn things
... me and my things.

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Old road
but not to that
... Somewhere Else.

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It's a playful breeze
it's wisps of buttered jasmine
... it's cherish come home.

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Forgotten old cabin
still home
... The Still-Takin' Inn.

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Why beyond these skies?
Why even beyond these trees?
... Why, why beyond home?

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And so, the nest of night
my seclude, my pool
... my echo.

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I cannot keep
forever beneath the rains
of spare days.

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A brush with day -
braced for shadows
and the imprints of place.

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(Inspired by iliveinoctober at Flickr)

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Pokeweed itch and blowflies -
they's no place like home
for the succulent.

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Now to chrysalis
its desperate stitch -
home again ... home again.

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Always, she comes
ivory, silk and alabaster
always milk and sweet fire.

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Tuck of womb -
brisk jagged streets dull
to wisps on wallpaper.

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