Photo ©Hamed Tahamtan
How did the heat shrink
and blow away in green torrents
of sea-wash, cloud-borne
on thrashing horse winds?
Fissures in the cracked skin
of the earth riffle with downy
bristles, the shrivelled flowers
of summer, filled now, running
with dry dust after the soaking rain.
Earth sighs and sings beneath
the plucked chords of rain strings
yet the music runs through open
fingers, soaking into gaping heat-wounds,
water in a desert of weeping
the sound of falling leaves
a chain saw cutting logs
a dog barking
and the smell of wood smoke
curling through the changing air
The Oracle gave me the theme for this one. I think it shows.
Rain beats its persistent music
on roof and rippling grass,
misting the meadow,
smearing the window glass.
Light stretches unchanging,
uncontrasted, dull as the sky.
So hard to recall the brilliance of summer sun,
the deep green shade of panting leaves,
the dreams of roses.
august heat hangs thick
among the heaps of shadows
dim beneath the trees
autumn was in your leaving
scattered with butterfly dust
This is for Ronovan’s haiku challenge. You can join in here.
The first haiku has ‘bloom’ instead of ‘grow’—not really a synonym, but I prefer it. So, I’ve added a second haiku with both suggested words.
Your time will come, rose
to fall in a cloud of scent.
Bloom, now, in beauty.
Once upon a time,
the green grass grew all around,
now grey concrete sprouts.
Painting by Maria Oakey Dewing
In the long grass poppies blow,
Glowing embers of summer heat.
Fleet, the failing, fading day,
Stay, the evening star,
Far and bright,
Light in the turquoise sky.
Fly, the southbound birds,
Words in the gusting wind,
Thinned, the leaves in the poplar trees,
Lees of summer wine,
Mine, the last of the nectar sweet.
Fleet the failing, shortened days,
Stays the cold of early morning,
Dawning red where the poppies blow,
Glowing in the late autumn grass.