Short post today, since I inflicted two long ones in a row on my readers. I'm always inspired to write poetry at the turning of the seasons, and despite today's weather feeling more like February than late May I thought I'd post a few of my short poems. I call this form "nearly Haiku":
After a rainstorm,
The grass comes alive
With earthworms and robins.
Lonesome mockingbird
Fills warm nights with his longing---
I would give him rest.
That last line should be read with a certain wry tone, which I'm sure you know if you've ever had a mockingbird singing outside your window ALL NIGHT LONG. My husband says it's only the bachelors that sing at night, so here's hoping our lonesome guy gets lucky.
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