Spring rites
treading dawn, moist earth
breathes-sycamore smiles, morels
where are you hiding?
field guides dog eared bulge
conspicuous foragers
a broken twig speaks
For Haiku Bones, prompt "hunt".
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The works and commentary of this blog are the expressly held rights of Anna Norden. Reproduction (print, electronic or any other form) is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.
About Me
- gabrielle
- I live in South Minneapolis with Chris, Emma and Sauvi. We make good trouble together. I am committed to living in such a way as to engender peace and social justice, ecology and sustainability, and cultural, spiritual and artistic expression and exchange. I am interested in dialogue about the core of the human experience.
3 comments:
Nice, just my kind of poem.
Ah, the rite of spring in seeking mushrooms. Perfect.
When that broken twig speaks, the hunt is on!
Two haiku hunts:
Hunting bamboo
What were they hunting?
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