For awhile at my last job, friends came to expect haiku on special occasions in their lives. Often I obliged ...
lazy summer moon
lingering by the river —
that sweet plaintive cry
for m. upon the birth of her second son
19 april 2005
My friend M. lives on the Mississippi not far from us. She loves to be outdoors, but sometimes babies have other plans. Tell me: Does the river call the woman out from the house, or the baby call his mother back in?
Labels: musings, poetry, summer, work