Buy again next fall?
No, it’s good year after year,
until mice find it.
– above post (on phone) or beside it (on desktop). –
Buy again next fall?
No, it’s good year after year,
until mice find it.
First few cold days ask
“Who can overwinter?”
Katydids cannot.
When I wrote the original version of my haiku, I was aware that some insects can overwinter as adults, even where winters are harsher than in the Mexican mountains favored by monarch butterflies. Bark beetles are a dreaded example. Seeing a lethargic insect shaped like familiar crickets (but bigger and more colorful), I wrote a haiku voicing the unlikely hope that the insect (later nicknamed “Kermit” after the famous green frog) might be able to overwinter:
Last few mild days ask
“Ready to overwinter?”
Cricket moves slowly.
A helpful comment by Sue Ranscht on my post with that haiku prompted me to dig a little deeper. Kermit was a young male katydid. Winters where I live are mild enough for his mother’s eggs but still too harsh for him. Kermit ran out of time before maturing. That makes the middle line of my original haiku more like a taunt than a sincere question, so I revised the haiku to be an elegy for Kermit the katydid.
Last few mild days ask
“Ready to overwinter?”
Cricket moves slowly.
Ignoring hints
from tulip tree and maple,
elm stays green, for now.

Sundown where I am
is sunup to someone else,
a world’s width away.

Photo © Patrick JenningsSundown ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #351

Her crayon goes from Sun to Earth,
thru a window and some glassware,
and then a little farther still.
She scribbles nonsense on a wall.

Yes, using the category [ekphrastic poetry] would be more accurate than using the category [haiga]. The word [ekphrastic] is way too dysphonious for describing any kind of poetry I might like, so I pretend that the poem is a haiku. Close enough?
Riding the wind and
calm about impermanence,
clouds form and vanish.
Calm ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #348
From a distant sun,
some light finds another sun
and can shine again.

Glowing yellow like the sun,
spider waits for prey to come.




Like many juvenile birds, this male cardinal sat still and looked befuddled, then changed position a little, and then sat still and looked befuddled. With his face centered in the focus frame and a moderately fast shutter speed, he should have been in focus. My camera’s autofocus probably got distracted by the twigs all around him. While my camera has good manual overrides for most of its automatic choices, its manual focusing is a lame joke. So I made lemonade from lemons with the final line of my haiku.

Memories linger
tho nobody is still here
to remember them.
Visit Lingering to see the inspiration.
Redden, then blacken,
then become any color
in a bird’s feathers.
double or single
“Rose of Sharon” or “Althea”
sunny or cloudy



Stoneware bowl
imagines being …
balsa bird.




When they bloom,
each day is sunny.
Food’s good too.


I glanced down and broke stride just in time to avoid stepping on this snake, then took some photos. I was briefly puzzled that the snake seemed to have chosen dappled sun for basking when full sun was available, but the whole driveway may well have been in dappled sun when the snake chose a spot earlier in the morning. It’s more fun to imagine that the snake had to rethink choosing looks over practicality.
Lifeless? No, leafless.
They hold their breath all winter,
exhale leaves in spring.
