Written Today

Grayest May in decades;
yet, pinkish white blossoms on
the blackberry bush.

----

Low tide--
my feet crunch down rocks, shells,
and hermit crab bones.

----

Sign of Spring--
a bumblebee jumps into
a poppy head first.

----

This dreary May--
Sunshine in the form
of dandelions.

----

Star jasmin grows
on the outer walls
of the outhouse.

----

Solitary beach...
I see a pack of men
and turn around.

September 2018

The smell of fennel--
bees walk on yellow flowers,
smelling ocean air.

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Weeds and flowers,
wild fennel and iceplant--
occasional butterflies.

----
Gulls cry a lot.
Summer's last hurrah--
Maybe they're hot.

----
Peaceful walk--
except for the pebble
in my shoe.

----
The ocean's edge
smells of weed and pee.
People sure fuck things up.

----
Shimmering sea,
Indian Summer sun beats down--
a grebe floats alone.

Finally wrote something.

Cold June rain
& disappointing peaches...
Where are my wool socks?

-----

Bright white Summer sun,
pink-white blackberry flowers--
no fruit yet.

-----

Walking downhill,
assessing neighbors' yards,
smelling their roses.

Senryu or Haiku? And what's Tanka?

After you read the link, you'll understand why I often think I should have named this blog "Sorta Kinda Senryu." But, as is obvious from reading my earlier writing, I didn't really know what Haiku were, let alone Senryu. And I'd heard of Tanka before, but never tried to write one. I've only written a couple. Here's one I wrote this morning.

Blackberry flowers, 
white & delicate in the sun; 
milk thistle purple 
fringe on the green, thorny stalk; 
nothing ripe yet.

https://akitahaiku.com/what-are-haiku-senryu-and-tanka/

I love my neighbors' blackberry bushes.

Thorny green branches - - 
white flowers, but no berries. 
The blackbirds will wait.

- - - - - - - - -

Thorny branches stray 
over the old gray fence - - 
no blackberries yet.

Bee bumbles...

Bee bumbles 
on little purple flowers--
why is he alone?

While pulling weeds...

While pulling weeds,
tired, clumsy hands
grab some flowers too.

A Sorta Kinda Haiku & a Sorta Kinda Tanka

Night comes, and
those little yellow flowers
have closed up shop.


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Tufts of green with
those little yellow flowers,
settled in the cracks
between pieces of gray cement--
and people call them weeds!