Rising to the surface of an empty lake,
a single leaf
like an unsaid goodbye,
too late for autumn.
Ripple-ringed dark waters,
light-lost, strive
to recall sun-splitting orange-gold
days of October.
Reflected forest, broken
by the troubled surface, promises,
touching leaf edge;
that gravity and time will turn again.
But I recall you smiling as we swam,
and memories dissolve,
like autumn leaves,
in the rain.
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For Hj.
Posted on dVerse
Red geraniums,
architectural ironwork,
and mute lace curtains.
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Nineteenth century buildings near Hyde Park, London. I went to Wimbledon yesterday, which was wonderful(!). This haiku was written over breakfast, looking across the road at a typical London townhouse from the 1800s. The sun is shining. I enjoyed trying to work ‘architectural ironwork’ into a haiku.
Fallen rose petals;
their warm wet scent embracing
lovers sensing rain.
—————
I have a pergola with a white climbing rose in my garden. It is beautiful, and it has rained this week. The rest is imagination.
Posted on Poets United.
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