Karl and I went to Walmart in Sheboygan to buy groceries. We are grateful for our face masks, and all seem comfortable with how we take care of one another, and ourselves. The greeters and staff are helpful. Music plays, and fall planters greet us as we walk towards the entrance. We bought a chrysanthemum planter last time. Lunch at our kitchen table.
Prayers . . .
I read and watch the light, and am inspired to search my archives for some poems and old posts. Sometimes readers remind me of poems I had not thought of for a time. Thank you.
R ose clouds at sunrise, and the day
O pens to songs, silence, and new
S trength, with hope
years that passed too soon
are with me still
sun and shadows
on old brick path
H ope and
days grow shorter
moving my recliner
closer to new sun
“almost autumn” is from my post, The Lullaby Of Seasons, from September 12, 2012:
Each season seems inevitable as it arrives, settles in, and then changes to the next one in due time. Autumn arrives for me, perhaps Spring for you. The waves roll to shore all year, and crash against icebergs some Winters here. Robins and red-wings return on time, but I usually do not seem to know when they leave. Maybe they like it that way, since we will meet again.
through yellow maple leaves
the mercy of God
“light falls” was published in Full of Moonlight: Haiku Society of America 2016 Members’ Anthology, edited by David Grayson. And Charlotte Digregorio’s Writer’s Blog, Daily Haiku: Aug. 21, 2019.