summer pilgrimage
 
through a book of poetry
 
one line at a time

Short

 
 
 

my life is this short—
 
a single line of haiku
 
cut off from the rest

Rain

 
 
 

Unexpected rain
 
washes the clothes on the line
 
for the second time.

Wind

 
 
 

Last high wind of March
 
chases a red dragon kite
 
past the county line.

Wind

 
 
 

first weekend of spring—
 
wind whipping sheets on the line
 
into a frenzy

Ritual

 
 
 

spring’s first ritual—
 
hanging the quilts on the line
 
to freshen them up

Laundry

 
 
 

laundry on the line—
 
west wind snapping one red dress
 
and seven white shirts

Scribbling

 
 
 

on a blank note card
 
scribbling one line of haiku
 
with a bright red pen

Line

 
 
 

Parkinson’s patient
 
piping one thin line of song
 
on Christmas morning