..
monday moon
there’s a pushpin moon
holding up this chalkboard sky;
this smudge of day, done.
tuesday stars
pinpricked points trail off,
breadcrumbs in a daring sky.
we connect the dots.
wednesday wings
dawn flight comes slowly,
with a push of sunrise song.
feathered voices ring.
thursday breeze
the trees have whispers,
secrets held in fragile limbs;
summer song unfolds.
friday fools
quail argue and run
gargle the morning’s first rays;
doodle-bobber chase.
saturday sun
lemon yellow ball
skipping over lazy sky.
will the sea catch you?
sunday song
we rest. look upon
these moments that make our life.
declare it is good.
..
I’m late to the party, but we’re writing a seven-pack of haiku over at Poetic Bloomings. Come play!
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Really delightful, all days of the week hold something special, something vivid, to hold on to. Great piece!
Sunday’s is gorgeous.
“the trees have whispers,
secrets held in fragile limbs;”
this is an exquisite image. Excellent!
Can’t pick out my fav, but they offer an array of delight,
Each one utterly fresh and delightful to envision. Wonderful, De!
Your Sunday song is an apt closing, De! It accords the hope that is expected with no finality as yet!
Hank