Haiku

April 21, 2020

 
Four Haiku

 

Thirty-two degrees.

Sunshine, blue sky and brisk air.

A cold April day.

As Ali would say –

The trilling that was thrilling –

is now just old hat.

But then, I admit –

the sight of a crane in flight –

is still a thrilla.

Shovelers, Wood Ducks –

and Red breasted mergansers –

banding together.

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