Peppers lie uncut;
a knife amongst onions
glistens with sweetness.
——-
For haiku heights September challenge. I cooked Provençal Sauce last night (and my recipe has sweet peppers).
Nails losing their gloss,
she sits contemplating space,
but the train has left.
——-
For haiku heights September challenge. (With apologies to the woman opposite me in Bristol station last week who inspired this.)
A blackbird calling
as the sun rises, renders
all the world in song.
——-
A crowd not breathing;
two women dancing with drums,
moving like water.
——-
For haiku heights September challenge. The prompt is ‘agile’ and the phrase that came into my head was ‘au lapin agile’, which is French, but beyond that I couldn’t remember anything – so I looked it up, and it turns out to be the name of a famous cabaret club in Montmatre which was the haunt of struggling writers and artists at the start of the 20th century. (I have been there in spirit many times, and in reality 20 years ago). So just right, really.
Stars gathered to hear
new sounds in the darkness, but
it’s only a child.
——-
Smoke rises from leaves;
an old man watches traffic,
and we all move on.
——-
Clouds obscure the moon;
as the owl swoops silently,
a tired mouse stumbles.
——-
Your fingers touching
mine, as snow settles outside:
I feel them still.
——-
That colourful stone,
disturbed by winter storms, turns
to sand in my shoe.
——-
A squirrel pauses;
chestnut branch like a drawbridge,
defending summer.
——-
poetry diary 