in shade of cypress
good fortune shines on white crane
sun in cloudless sky
Image: Great Egret on Cross Lake, Louisiana, June 2011
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Prisms merge, dance in a semi-
transparent semi-circle, peripheral
sensation, kaleidoscopic aura
with its own volition. Sending,
not calling, message unknown.
Left, alone, with no companion
on the right side of anything,
it fades and swells, a pulsing
wave in a brief window of time,
a distraction with no direction.
I was able to take some nice photos while hiking at Painted Rock Conservation Area last Monday. The next day, while editing some of those photos, I experienced an ocular migraine that lasted about one half-hour. There was no headache, but I did have an aura, a prismatic band of light in an arc that stayed at the far left of my vision, no matter where my eyes tracked. When these occur, it’s hard to concentrate or get anything done; they’re just so fascinating. They seem more apparent if I keep my gaze fixed. Of course, I have to start all over again when I try to glance at them, because they’re always peripheral and move when my eyes move. BUT, the aura stays, no matter which eye I cover. Yes, fascinating.
Photo (pre-edit) taken at Painted Rock Conservation Area, Missouri, 05 November 2019
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I’m also linking this to Thankfulness… at Open Link night/dVerse.
bright burst of color
leaving blanket of dry leaves
this path to autumn
This haiku is my response to Colleen’s 2019 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 152 #Poet’sChoice.
Photos taken 5 November 2019 while hiking at Painted Rock Conservation Area, Missouri.
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Do you still keep those memories
we once held dear, now that we have
nothing else to share? The one thing
we could not divide between us
dwindled away for me, once we went
our separate ways, leaving nothing
but faint memories of memories.
This is my response to Quadrille #91 – Keep — the prompt from Kim at dVerse, which is to use the word keep in a 44-word poem that does not require meter or rhyme.
one starry night
to make that one painting –
the rustling leaves
branches sway in gentle breeze
starlight twinkling in their wake
would be stargazing painter
inspired by the night
nature’s canvas in the sky
with myriad points of light
leaves dancing before the moon
silhouetted by its light
framed by counterpoints
lights much closer than the stars
planets in the night
so much to choose from
all these heavenly bodies
wonder where to start
shooting star in star filled sky
the first of many brushstrokes
Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation #107 Soliloquy no Renga … one starry night offers a haiku by Chèvrefeuille (in blue) to be followed by subsequent links of a renga by the responding poet, with a minimum of six links. A “closed chain” is attained when the hokku (starting verse) and ageku (closing verse) connect in a way to make “the circle” complete.
This is my response.
Photos: Hunter’s Moon, 13 October 2019
Star image: The Galaxy Above, © Rodrigo Guerra, via Astronomy Picture of the Day
Will a wet summer mean a burst of color
for Ozark hills familiar with drab autumns?
Clouds more frequent, but blue skies,
still, in these shorter days of lower sun.
The sycamores seem to measure
the light, their yellow the first to show.
Without a frost to say otherwise, green
clings to maple, oak, and hickory.
No monarchs in sight as the milkweed
goes to seed, but the season will not be rushed.
Back in Buffalo, I’d be taking photos of peak fall foliage around Columbus Day. A week later could be too late, with colors fading. There’s nothing here yet, in Missouri, but our first frost of the season is in this weekend’s forecast. Fingers crossed.
Images (top to bottom)
Sycamore starting to change on Moreau River (04 Oct 2019)
Milkweed, bank-side of pond in Runge Conservation Center (09 Oct 2019)
Common buckeye feeding on aster at Runge (09 Oct 2019)
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shadows’ longest breath
warm light of midsummer eve
shorter days coming
This haiku is my response to Frank Tassone’s #Haikai Challenge #90: Midsummer.
Image: Summer Solstice 2009 – Niagara River
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