Home from the pond. A photograph by Edward S. Curtis, circa 1905, drove this thought.

warm pool
in this spring stream rage
dream's maid

Wedensday night, a useable E-link at our pond... and the tree frogs.

moonlight
after this late day's rain
tree songs

Breezy night, moon's shadow... projected.


leafed limb
a night shadow's broom whisks
the cottage side

Home from the pond this AM. There, there are -weak- wireless linkages.

at the door
eight abandoned shoes
steeplechase

Shouting chapmen... most pigeons scatter.

street sellers
tout their worldly wears
pigeons

This... first seen at wonderhaikuworlds.

_I took a step, then a second and a third... thus began my trek along this beach of writers. I glance back and see my footmarks fade and flatten under these waves of words. A sand castle tumbles.
each grain
is this sandcastle
the tide rises

_In a faded moment, I liken myself to a mere grain of sand along this shore of poets; a grain of sand that can never write, but can only witness. I am the simple scribe of what I see and hear, touch and taste, and smell. I dream.
sunset
this salty surf throbs
a song of roses

Cold slides down the hills... not exactly warm here today!

cold spills
across this warmed pond
new fog

The rainy sunset's ember, a promise of tomorrow.

day's ember
a promise in the rain
doves coo

John McDonald translated this into Scotts, on 9/16/2007, at WHW.

day's aizle
a hecht i the weet
doos croodle

I thank you again, John!
_m

When one sees or imagines a scene such as this, does an old, forgotten homestead come to mind?

dirt road
where the brook crosses...
lilacs

The... nature of "life."

inch worm
measures this briered vine
catbird

Irony at the Grange... from a few Septembers ago. _m

grange supper
vegetables in the stew
from a can

bog breeze
a great blue heron
poses

a bee
finds the sweet...
a jelly jar