

There once was a writer from St. Paul
Who could only write well in the fall.
With the leaves off the trees
She saw her neighbors with ease.
And then she could record it all.
Summer bumblebee /
exploring the cone flower, /
your fall is unknown.

Those who saw you fall /
might never have known you /
then they saw your tears.

Filed under 2018, Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
The wind and the truth /
whirl with autumn’s brittle edge. /
Leaves and love are brown.
Filed under 2017, Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
My ego tumbles /
among autumn rain and mud /
waiting for spring flowers.
Filed under 2017, Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
Fall dips into day. /
Wings open unto the sky: /
migration returns.
Filed under 2016, Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
The wind and the truth, /
Whirl on fall’s brittle edge: /
Leaves and love are brown.
Filed under 2016, Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author