Over at Miriam’s Well, an invitation to a haiku. And why not? As it happened, I was working on a post of pics that lacked captions, not that they needed any, but a bit of word garnish on a gallery augments the gadzooks. The haiku, posted on Miriam’s site, came in walking stride:
a long old side walk
a child’s pastel chalk drawing
blue orange bird feathers
Oh blue bird’s posit
bald caw clears scald orange glory
down green wave evening.
Oh quick bird’s message
clear and cold sweet morning wake
again post evening.
Oh to be a bird
who sings each morning sunup
and feathers sundown.
Oh drifted droop bird
lands on hand chalk covered walk
feather dust bath wash.
Oh rabbit molt moon
rises on sun’s dwilting back
enough for one day.
Oh quiet streetlamp moon
paper birds rise up to you
words fall to sidewalk.
Oh artist angel
dance brushes painterly dust
sidewalk chalk drawing.
And don’t forget to check out Miriam’s Well.
The Coming of the Toads 
I need to be reminded .
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Empty mind here this morning. Bare sidewalk, like the tide just flushed out.
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How to Write Haiku:
One two three four five
six seven eight nine ten e
leven seventeen.
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Chalk poetics . Interesting .
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Yes, and the text as quickly brushed off, rained on, hosed off. But you realize that ephemera is part of the art form. Ephemera is the chalk art, the haiku breath.
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Oh her lovely hands …
Must think of a Haiku in response. Miriam’s well is worth exploring …
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Oh her lovely hands
covered with pastel chalk dust
waves brushing up beach.
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