one day in mid-September

morning

it's oatmeal season--
cold morning, warm bowl, steamed milk,
quick morning snuggle

I need a jacket
biking in, and ear warmers,
and more days like this

afternoon

wrote you just to say
it's clear blue and cloudless here,
a Santa Cruz day

and wonder why, still,
always, this color of sky
makes me think of you

evening

stretch of glowing gold
someone's suburban prairie
gone wild and lovely

wild geese lift from field
all squawk and wing and feather
I stand stunned, earthbound
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Comments

LH said…
love this.
i'm going to get out my issa book next week and get the kids on some haiku. thanks for the inspiration.
7:40 PM
Julie Anna said…
Haiku is good. Makes one feel so...poetic. I always use too many words to say anything, so boiling-it-down is good practice for me.
10:47 AM
LH said…
i'm curious...you only eat oatmeal seasonally?
7:08 PM
Julie Anna said…
yes, as a matter of fact. Eating oatmeal is like installing a small furnace in my stomach, so I love it in the winter, but have to stick to cold cereal in the summer. And once oatmeal season is upon us, can wearing-socks-to-bed season be far behind?
1:04 PM
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