Walking on the shore
the fog rolled in off the lake,
hiding the sunset

One hundred haiku
Begun in dismal winter
Finished in June heat

With dappled shadows
I only need sunglasses
every other tree

The ancient sculptures
Waiting out the centuries
Close enough to touch

Yesterday showers
The garden catches its breath,
today, thunderclouds

The rain on the roof
Is a symphony of sound-
Droplet orchestra

It's hard to recall
what is was like here, with him
breaking the silence

Steaming herbal tea.
Sometimes I just breathe it in
instead of drinking.

A bearded iris
in delicate coral pink
glows in the twilight

Walking on the sand
while the sun streams off the lake.
Feels wrong to wear shoes.

Neighborhood greetings
bring warmth to a cold morning.
How are you today?

A night without sleep
means even a sunny day
passes in a fog

Why do I garden
As soon as I'm home from work,
wearing a white shirt?

Hot wind from the west
Pulls along a darkened sky
Like a child's wagon

Skipping in the sand
I threw a stone in the lake
It skipped on the waves

We wake in darkness
With no touch no sense no sound
and reach for the light

A perfect spring day
With cool clear air and warm sun.
Why am I still sad?

After a rainstorm
the flowers glow like neon
against the dark soil

The cool lake beeze stops
right at Glenwood Avenue,
summertime's border

A cool offshore breeze
Pushes the humidity
Into the misty sun