In the Style of Haiku

Leaves changing red, yellow,
Falls, life blood carelessly thrown
Away in cold gusts


Strings of thread, twisted,
turning, cut, wind pulling to
find a high-strung kite.

Dogs bark, sun rising
Stretching my legs, my soul up
Breakfast time is here.



The Empty Garden

Brown and barren, the leaves fell
The plane trees lacking color
Unredeemable, except for the seed pods
Which still hang like Christmas tree
Ornaments. Maple leaves red, yellow,
Brown, always the brown asserts
Itself into the color, hinting,
Threatening that the end comes.
Sunsets red, orange, the moon
Rises, Yellow, hazy, plump,
Food for the hunter, gatherer,
Soon virgin white will cover
The stains of life, healing, planting
Seeds of tomorrow’s world.
Teaching with iciness the survival
Of the young, the aged, the storekeeper
In all of the seasons to come.