NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Seventeen

And a very happy Haiku Day!

Cool April Morning
wrapped her warm arms around me
and bade me listen.

The park: a bluebird,
romantically inclined cranes,
and three mergansers.

the impossible
yellow-green of spring’s bursting
red maple blossoms.

The first photo is a landscape seen this morning. The second was an overhead view, seen while out painting this evening.

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Seventeen

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Day Twenty-five, NaPoWriMo

In the rain the ground
parts to let the still greenness
flow upward and out.
In the rain the greens
resolve to face April’s chill
leaving the warm mould.
In the rain the world
takes a big breath of soft spring
and relaxing, exhales.

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-three

Thirty-three degrees
Night rain glass beads on car door
Late April morning

Still dew illuminated
Fog flowing soft over hill
weighted by stillness

top step creaks with frost
Morning, chill fog expanding
gold floods the hillside.

hidden birds waiting
quiet hillside wrapped in fog
trees golden with sun

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-two

standing in a park
cold breeze mutes the noisy crowd
wishing the earth well
focussed on intent, sending
hope for the future
something we all must work for
must come with action.

Short poem today – a couple days of short nights of sleeping and an early morning tomorrow. Plenty of fresh air today too – out with others at the March for Science in Albany NY.

a bridal party
happens on demonstration
crowd becomes backdrop

Haiku Day – Round Three

daffodils in spring:
they stand strong in the cool nights
and embrace warm days

the birds don’t question
their annual migration –
mysterious path

Tonight stars at last
mythology old or new
power coursing down

Haiku Day – Round Two

@realDonaldTrump •
we have to hold YOU to Truth •
not the media.
#RESIST #IMPEACH #Haikuday #NaPoWriMo #haiku

@realDonaldTrump
your lies are so thick and sad
they rate a haiku

@realdonaldtrump:
a kind universe has made
you five syllables.

NaPoWriMo Day Seventeen Haiku Day

Happy International Haiku Day!

Determined flying
Beaks slice frothy morning clouds
Springward northward bound

Faceted glinting
Restless metamorphosis
Springs up, vanishes. 

Out of night’s quiet
And still, sleepy murmuring 
The first bird’s clear note.