Haiku a Day

Two hats one black one brown Sit in the bike lane, waiting For the next strong gust.

It seems happier As I drink it down. Maybe It's the drink talking.

Clouds rolling past, flanked By glowing street lamps, focus On the buildings shell

This is the America I believe in. This is the one I’m going to work towards.

I signed it so they Couldn't separate it from The brick and frame.

I am thankful for Small fun-fetti cupcakes And their creator.

Brazenly fading From green to golden hues , leaves Ripe before they fall.

Before sticks and stones Come words fueled by ignorance, hate. Things are not okay.

Balancing the world On your toes, surrounded by Painted porcelain.

Carried by wind gusts Sparks dance across the road from The trees on fire.

Hope, like pipe cleaner Flowers is hard to destroy Even in the cold.

Holly leaves tangled With a net of spiders thread Catch the morning glow.

Muted home blaring With something stuck in the pipe The world in the way

Gold and orange leaves Cascade down into the street Knocked free by the wind

Darkly looking down Morning glories seem to mourn The last days of fall.

Finding the perfect Temperature is hard when You're a reptile.

Stepping off the porch And into the leaves, white cat Surveys her domaine.