I’ve been walking and running a lot lately.
I always did — I always needed both the fresh air and movement — but this is different.
Is desperate the word? I dunno, but here’s what I do know.
Every time, at every turn, there’s some little miracle…

Someone playing music in their yard. Someone hanging trivia questions from their tree. Someone walking their dog in the a dinosaur costume. (And I mean the human in the costume, not the dog.)

Anyway, today it was this: A man in his kayak on the nearly empty lake sending big loopy bubbles out into the misty morning. Just for kicks. Just for us…

Haiku 19
April 19

“What’s with the bubbles?”
someone shouts from a distance.
Iridescent hope!

Haiku 18
April 18

It’s an illusion
No matter the circumstance
We are not alone

#nationalpoetrymonth #30daysofhaiku #lizsharespoems

Everywhere you go these days, things are different.

Haiku 17
April 17

Water clear and cold
Rope swing hangs at the ready
Only the dog swims

Come on, computer. Are you kidding me?

Hey! Spinning beachball!
This is not the time or place.
Take it outside!

I’m pretty sure it was Franklin who said that thing about death and taxes and yet, here we are, floating in uncertainty, this marked day on the calendar suddenly no different than any other.

Haiku 15
April 15

It’s April fifteenth
Receipts sit stacked on the desk
Taxes AREN’T certain!

Really appreciating my neighborhood these days, in ways I hadn’t since my kids were little and spent about 10,000 hours going to the stop sign and back on their Razor scooters. There’s a lot to look at between here and there.

Haiku 14
April 14

The sky tosses light
It circles the rim, misses
We get the rebound

In a funny twist, I wrote my haiku yesterday about distraction and then I forgot to post it.
Thanks for keeping me humble, universe!

Anyway, here it is.
Today’s will be up later…

Haiku 13
April 13

Time’s a mystery
A dog is a distraction
and nobody minds

Haiku 12
April 12

Flour on my hands
Rainy birdsong at the sill
Worth rising early

Haiku 11
April 11

Each bright bloom hurries
until this strange spring arrives.
Everyone slows down.

Living in a city, I am so struck by how quiet and still and spacious everything has become lately. It is both sad and eerie, but also — if you pay attention — beautiful.

That’s what I hope to spend this weekend noticing. I’ll pop in just to post my haikus without context, and other than that I’m stepping away from my devices for a couple of days. I’m tired.

Hope you all keep reading and writing. Stay safe and well…

Haiku 10
April 10

This new world, so still!
Our own breath louder than these
silent fireworks.