The Wind is Eavesdropping

for Kim’s prompt at dVerse Poets Pub https://dversepoets.com/2020/09/07/quadrille-111-whats-that-rustling-in-the-eaves/.  We are to write a quadrille today – a poem of exactly 44 words, excluding the title and using the word given for the day – eavesdropping.  It jas been a long while since I have visited my old friends at dVerse as I have been grieving the death of my husband.  I have been writiing but not positing.  Today, this word was a sign – I have been working on a short poem with the word in it.  Hello fellow poets!  It is good to visit again.

The Wind is Eavesdropping
“The morning had dawned clear and cold, with a crispness that hinted at the end of summer.” George R.R. Martin

The wind is eavesdropping on the trees
and the woodland creatures.
It listens as the squirrels
skitter and scamper
and prepare for fall.
Cold this twilight with
Venus burning bright.
The sun explodes in a pre-autumn
blue sky as the geese fly quickly southward.

 

 

Haibun: I am Lone Wolf

For Sherry’s Prompt on Real Toads “Answer the wolf’s call with your poems about wildness and wolves, domesticity and mothers, daughters and sons, or your own fierce love for your child. Allow the passage quoted to take you where it pleases. Bring us back whatever you find.” And for the Midweek Motif on Poets United: Authenticity

Haibun: I am Lone Wolf
“The wolves knew when it was time to stop looking for what they’d lost, to focus instead on what was yet to come.”
― Jodi Picoult, Lone Wolf

Most of the time, I prefer to be alone; not part of the crowd. I prefer to wander in the forest and sniff the smells there, feel the heat/cold/rain/snow on my back. I prefer an honesty in my words and actions. If something is shite (IMHO) I prefer to say so and not shilly-shally with polite words. This has gotten me into trouble in the past and so, I prefer to be alone, with my honesty. I am a lone wolf. I only kill to eat, to leave behind forage for the pack roaming behind me. I prefer feeding rather than being fed. I can feed myself. Sometimes I am shot at, sometimes I am smiled at, most of the time I am left alone. I prefer honesty, or authenticity if you will. I don’t put down pretty words and prefer actually, that you be authentic with me. Let’s smell each other’s butts and see where the other has been, what the other has eaten. Sometimes I put my head back and howl at the moon, even when it is hidden by clouds.
fall comes like a storm –
it can be smelled on the wind –
inhale it deeply

Waning Moon

For Kerry’s prompt on Toads: a poem by Rupi Kaur, using the reference: ‘fill the empty parts… We are to write a micro-poem of 10 lines or fewer.  This is also posted for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub.


Waning Moon

“Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.”- George Eliot

the moon is at one percent illumination today –
darkness is almost total – am owl glides invisible through the night.
summer is winding down and in the cornfields the stalks’
drying leaves rustle in the wind –
I wait for autumn to fill me with apples
and frost, with clear blue skies
and the last tomatoes from the vine.
tiny sweet smelling blackeyed susans
and the burrowing cicadas fill me with music.
I want to be filled with autumn again.

Fall Knocks Slowly

For Real Toads Tuesday Platform

Fall Knocks Slowly
Fall knocks slowly at summer’s door:
an old friend with shyness at returning and
maybe told to leave.
Leaves turn yellow and
slowly drop on green grass and
turn brown to be swept away
by chill winds.
Breezes once warm start
to be chill at evening
and daylight’s gold luster fades
to early evening.
Evening comes too soon for those of us who love the
sweet warm days and azure skies
but summer opens the door to fall and
the visitor glides in and
settles down to stay until
winter bids it go.
In the cold winter
might stars seem to burn brighter –
heaven’s nightlights to keep us safe
while we sleep and dream of spring.

copyright kanzensakura

Haiku 10062018

For Poets United Poetry Pantry and for Real Toads Tuesday Platform

Haiku: 100062018
sleepy woodland pool –
leaves drift on surface dreaming
of past summer sun

copyright Kanzen Sakura

Wordless Wednesday

copyright kanzens

copyright kanzens

Momiji 紅葉

Lone red maple leaf
In sea of bright green leaves.  Leaps
To earth:  切腹

He says….She says

He says summer
and wears white shoes.
She says early autumn
and prepares satsuma-imo.

He says it’s hot,
she says zansho.

Summer!
Risshuu!

He is Asian.
She is an American Southerner.

Go figure.

sunt lacrimae rerum

dead cicada lies
under fading crepe myrtle.
I stand. lone mourner.

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