river of sustenance

 

at the gate of a deserted house,
a cicada is crying in the rays
of the evening sun      © Shiki

neighbors left hot summer house
allow insects to move in

pressing sushi;
after a while,
a feeling of loneliness      © Buson

parents and children are gone
eating alone so quiet

the coolness
of the sound of water at night,
falling back into the well      © Issa

overfilling my bucket
splashing on path back to hut

autumn’s bright moon,
however far I walked, still afar off
in an unknown sky      © Chiyo-Ni

harvest moon is calling me
reflections on dark water

all my years
floating in the river
a childish heart      © J. Reichhold

living half my life on our
family’s wooden sampan

a flash of lightning:
the screech of a night-heron
flying in the darkness    © Basho

monsoon rains and avian
wildlife are my companions

 

images

wikipedia

 

Italicized “renga” responses © lynn.  Linking to Carpe Diem Haiku Kai .

doxology in our grove

 

dusky sunset chalks sky’s rose window

fireflies flicker their candles’ brief flame

cicada choirs hum nightly prayers,  and

robed birds chirrup their evening praise

 

 

seasons strum

Chevrefeuille’s Heeding Haiku “fusion” challenge at Mindlovemisery’sMenagerie.

 

from a treetop
emptiness dropped down
in a cicada shell
~
black forest
whatever you may say
a morning of snow

©️Basho (1644-1694), translated by Reichhold

 

 

IMG_4536

photo by lynn

cicada solo

serenades empty forest

sing before it snows

 

©️ lynn__

cicada song

Posting this haibun for dVerse Poets as we bid a long goodbye to sweet summertime.  Toni is hosting with an emphasis on “komorebi”, a Japanese word for the light that filters between trees…enjoy!

 

Our firstborn son’s house sits on a hill with a woodsy backyard and inviting patio where we celebrated mother’s day last spring. Now we embark on a final summer bike ride before our oldest grandchild starts school. It requires a little time and patience to find everyone’s helmet and shoes before hitching up the toddler carrier and deciding our route. To avoid riding on the busy narrow street, I and the two boys take a shortcut over grassy properties between shrubbery to meet grandpa and dad near the bike path.

My middle grandson points the way to “our lake” and we head down the steep path, gaining speed and testing brakes alternately. After a couple curves, the lake is in view below us. Wildflowers border the smooth concrete which ends at a dirt trail leading into the trees. Some tri-leaf plants look suspiciously like poison ivy so I google it while waiting with grandson for the other riders to catch up. His helmet is too loose and flops sideways again so I tighten the straps.

It’s gratifying to watch our son with his children at the lakeside park as he explores with them. We notice frogs of various sizes in the mud and a painted turtle on a submerged branch. My husband sits at lone picnic table with granddaughter as I try to keep up with the boys while maintaining a safe distance from a cattail swamp.

The sun plays hide and seek with puffy clouds above us and something, perhaps a fish, jumps as evidenced by the concentric rings expanding outward across the quiet water. The water too is partly cloudy, with some algael growth around its edges and a muddy bottom that gets stirred up by slightest movement of crawdad or minnow. A painted-lady butterfly flits from late dandelion head to wild morning glory bloom.

 

loud strumming in tree

IMG_4536

photo by lynn

camouflaged musician of

summer’s symphony