Friday, April 05, 2019
Haiku Friday: My hometown
Place matters. We are all from someplace; we all live someplace now. For some, it's even the same place. Either one can be your hometown.
Let's haiku about that this week. Whether you are from St. Peter, Minnesota, Grosse Pointe, Michigan, or NYC, go ahead and knock out some lines.
Here, I will go first:
Green in the summer
Red in fall, then white winters;
Spring is a palette.
Now it is your turn! Just use the 5/7/5 syllable pattern and have some fun!
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Where dark swamps meet the
bright beach. Spanish moss hangs low.
Gulls cry out. Steamy.
Burning pavement on
my bare soles. Chilled in a
crowded public pool.
Azalea, evening
primrose, crepe myrtle, all in
hot pinks and bright corals.
Asphalt streets do feel
spongy. The smell of tar drifts
up from the road.
At the cabin, the
pot’s on the propane. Just-caught
crawfish, shrimp, crabs boiling.
Afternoons spent in
peel-and-eat marathons. Lunch
fades into supper.
Just as spring, summer,
fall fade into one season
in Southeast Texas.
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bright beach. Spanish moss hangs low.
Gulls cry out. Steamy.
Burning pavement on
my bare soles. Chilled in a
crowded public pool.
Azalea, evening
primrose, crepe myrtle, all in
hot pinks and bright corals.
Asphalt streets do feel
spongy. The smell of tar drifts
up from the road.
At the cabin, the
pot’s on the propane. Just-caught
crawfish, shrimp, crabs boiling.
Afternoons spent in
peel-and-eat marathons. Lunch
fades into supper.
Just as spring, summer,
fall fade into one season
in Southeast Texas.
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