mining past posts

its was almost warm, the sky a blue with promise and the trees were covered with the faintest trace of green.

I wanted it to be an haiku - and I hope that it will be.

the haiku I caught was a much darker butterfly.

thank you to haiku thief for raising the idea of alternate realities

******phone, cock both hands full
talk, love, of a distant world
don't wake the sleeper

I love my bedroom window

I sleep with my windows open summer and winter. I love waking up to clean cold mornings as much as I like the honey drizzle of a summer daybreak.

I can hear the motorway in the distance and I can see the moon from my bed.

My feet face east when I sleep - when I die I will take my first step of my new life into the morning sun. This thought gives me pleasure and comfort.

There is a tawny frog-mouthed owl in the tree beside my bedroom. Her call vibrates through the night - in a register so low it is more felt than heard.

She has babies in that tree and brings them out of their nest to the long stretch of a branch where they waddle up and down watching the garden.