Haiga Archive

morning chill
two ladybirds trimmed
with pearls

wild roses
cascade over the gate
to our past
holding hands, we step
backward into childhood

fallen petals
spill from my basket
each one
a bruised and scented
poem for your pillow

stardrifts we slip into the depths of winter

a mirage
of mountains beckons
us homeward
we don’t know their names,
but they know ours

polar night
a snowy owl
fades to black
 

persimmons
peeled and hanging
out to dry…
autumn’s harvest
shines brighter this year