11 June 2020

One thing I’ve learned from writing all these haiku is that I don’t know a lot of local flora.

I

green leaves pop against
grey sky, trees savor last night’s 
refreshing rainstorm

II

grass or allium?
not sure, but it’s waving quite
gently in the breeze

III

scrubby little plants
chilling near their taller, (grass
or onion?) buddies

IV

April showers brought
these May flowers. forgot to
post them. they wilted.

V

this is a snapdragon, and it is not related to hyacinths

new yellow neighbor,
(hyacinth? close relation?)
maybe also wilted

VI

fungus, peachy pink 
like the sunrise, or perhaps 
an actual peach

27 May – 7 June

Not one per day, but we’re three months into the pandemic, and I’m tired.

7 June

sun setting over
Route Seven; clouds blanketing
blue and orange sky

4 June

I

delicate petals
open on damp evening
prior to rainstorm

II

over at the creek,
found a stick in the water.
didn’t bring it home.

III

mulberries? maybe.
still not eating mystery
plants. it’s a Tribe Choice!

1 June

thought leader for face
coverings, collars, re-thinks
and blocks COVID-holes

30 May 

Lettuce tell you, we
love our CSA. How much?
You won’t be-leaf it!

28 May 

Fungus among us

sinuous, creamy
folds of mystery mushrooms
call, but we resist

27 May

Siblings wearing masks

standing near different
trees than usual, smizing
through our humid masks