At Home in the World: A Haiku Chain
The city below
Wind dancing with bleached clouds
Squirrel on the wall
A black-eyed junco singing
Come, come outside why don’t you
Please do not tempt me
Glorious bird songs
Floating in on soft breezes
Lift my heart with joy
The scent of blue blooms
Is heady and thick, like sage
I know I’m not sick
It is still gray dawn
I go walk and see no one
Just me and song birds
Snail shell mobile home
Gastropod revs the engine
Marks a slimy path
Tree, you are tangled
Branches leaning, white and gray
Lifting bough, blue lid
A tall palm trunk
Hugged tight by a grapevine
One grows, one not
The egret looks white
Long beak searching for water
In my back yard pond
A lonesome red rose
Seduces me with fragrance
Soothing my senses
Spring green grass reaches
A golden summer moment
Already knowing
Cascading pink sage
Climbing iceberg rose in bloom
Wind scattered ashes
Birds perching in peace
Children laugh very loudly
Kitchen smells so good
From my red armchair
A profusion of roses
Through water-stained glass
Original prompt: Write a haiku
Kamelyta Noor, Robin Longfield, Steve Perry, Frances T. Borella, Rose Y. Monge, Gudelia Vaden, Burcu Misirli Chatham, Barbara Berg, Nan Friedley, Dar Stone, Natalie Champion,
Debby Johnson, Kris Lovekin, Cati Porter
Inlandia: A Literary Journey 