Saturday Haiku: Tree Frogs

 

winds rustle the trees
darkness brings lakeside stillness
tree frogs sing the night

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Photo by Tyler Burgener at Alabama Wildlife Federation

Copes gray tree frog flourishes in Alabama. It is easier to hear than to see due to its camouflage coloring and its size (1.25 to 2.5 inches)

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Saturday Haiku: Katydids

I love hearing these creatures singing from the trees at night. Last week, one of them came down during the day for a closer visit.

katydids

sounding glad tidings

through the night

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Photo by Charles Kinnaird

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Saturday Haiku: Two in the Morning

 

it is 2:00 a.m.
mockingbird chatters its song
streetlights pierce the night

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Photo by Charles Kinnaird

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Saturday Haiku: Woodland Nights

 

barred owl calls
in distant woodlands
spirits soar

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Image: Dark Forest (Stock Photo)

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Saturday Haiku: Night Frogs

nocturnal voices

join in the ancient chorus

old souls hear the song

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Photo: Setting Sun at Swamp

          (Public Domain)

          Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

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Saturday Haiku: Clear Nights

a bright moon

expanding the heart

with clear nights

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Image: A Mountain Pass: Karachi (1927), from the Eight Fine Views of Japan series

Artist: Hasui Kawase (1883-1957)

Medium: Woodblock print

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Saturday Haiku: Day's End

sun and moon

caressing the sky

night awaits

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Photo by Krzysztof Puszczyński



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Saturday Haiku: Night Frogs

nocturnal voices

join in the ancient chorus

old souls hear the song

                                ~ CK

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Photo: Setting Sun at Swamp

          (Public Domain)

          Courtesy pf Wikimedia Commons

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Saturday Haiku: Night

      Looking to the night,

           sensory limits prevail.

           Acceptance brings peace.

                                      ~ CK

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Photo: A night in the forest

Credit: Randi Hausken, from Baerum, Norway

Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons  

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Delighted to Be Here

Have you ever found yourself very glad to be exactly where you are? One night I was overcome by that sensation in the midst of household chores and wrote a poem to celebrate the magic and delight of existence.

Street Light for the Moon

It was almost midnight

When I took the garbage out to the curb.

Pivoting under the soft white illumination

Of the corner street light

My eye caught the flutter

Of a magnificent moth.

With noiseless ease of flight

She hovered about the lush blossoms of four-o'clocks,

Gathering what sweetness she could

Here and there among the flowers.

As I stepped closer

To observe the sight,

The street light became

The magical light of the moon

And the moth was a fairy

Of busy and delicate purpose

Seemingly unaware of my presence.

Looking up at the front porch

I saw myself standing on the steps.

In an instant

I was snapped back to myself,

And from the vantage point of the front steps

The moon shifted back to street light.

The fairy faded to the natural beauty

Of the moth.

Looking beyond myself

I saw street light

Garbage pail

And moth,

But looking within

I held the memory

Of flowers opening to the moonlight

Welcoming the fairy's touch.

                                             ~ CK
 

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Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons


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Saturday Haiku: Walking the Dog at Night

  Crickets in the grass,

        bats chirping in darkened skies;

        unseen life abounds!

                                                                          ~ CK

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Photo: "Midnight Mist" by Miguel Virkkunen Carvalh
            Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

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This is for Joe (who gave me the first three lines)

Standing on the stateroom balcony
Peering into the endless black
Of a horizonless night,

I couldn’t help thinking of that dame that walked up to me
Just a few hours before.
She had the look of a wanderer
But a wanderer who knew her way around.
Only tonight she was a lost kitten
With eyes as deep as that horizonless night.

“I know it must be fate, Mr. Marlowe,” she said to me,
“That on this night, when all seemed so hopeless
I should find you here.”

That’s what she wanted – hope on a hopeless night.
I had seen that look before.
Sometimes that look would lob a zinger
Right into the pit of my stomach.
Another needy client
Short on hope,
Short on insight,
Even shorter on cash,
But long on virtue.

I promised her I would see what I could do.
I wasn’t so sure about this beau she told me about.
I didn’t know if he was on the up-and-up,
But he obviously meant something to her,
And now he was nowhere to be found.
I don’t know why I agreed to it –
Yeah, I know why –
It’s because I’m a sucker.
A sucker for a cry for help,
A sucker to track down dead-beat scum,
A sucker to thrash out a little justice in this god-forsaken city.
A sucker for the deep dark eyes
Of a helpless girl
On the edge of another horizonless night.



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