Saturday haiku


Saturday haiku
(senses applied to what’s outside; maybe each verse stands alone; maybe they all have to go together)


the skitterers wait
leaves falling then branches cleared
skittering delight


what is there to hear
surprised or unsurprised sound
to like or endure


out front I smell town
cars and bricks and street work there
out back trees and leaves


unconvincing taste
air that’s all mixed together
good and bad to breathe


touching the splinters
old drying frame of window
trees too far away


c l couch


photo by LR HULTS on Unsplash

red and then orange
though for fall the green has yet
to let go at last

(don’t mean to be on a one-trick pony about fall, but I’m glad to be arriving here and now, now and here)

evergreen complains
you bring on fall all you want
we know how we’ll stay

(this one seems to have come out all its own, as it were on its own)

c l couch

photo by Aurora K on Unsplash

forward one red leaf
before a crimson chorus
conducting fall's song

c l couch

today in my friend’s yard a big red leaf hanging lonely, behind which smaller red leaves formed a line, nature auguring fall, I suppose

photo by Stephen Mabbs on Unsplash