Random HaikuMoss creeping down bark: Rain-drenched leaves open skyward, Soaking up the blue.Random Haiku
The willow branch sways; Fresh beads of morning dew form On slender young shoots.
Ice-flecked grass glitters In a pale and frigid dawn; Old leaves fall softly.
Up through the grey haze Snow spins in frantic eddies, Muffling the owl’s call.
Mounds of new-mown hay Lie waiting in the late sun: Next the rose-hued moon.
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If we should get separated, just whistle.
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