Haiku Hourly

My personal challenge today is to write a haiku hourly!



6 a.m.

Between mosquitoes

and evening breezes, I walk -

a robin studies me.



7 a.m.

Speaking softly

to calm a tiny chipmunk -

I startle the heron.



8 a.m.

Seeking freedom

the wasp batters the sky, trapped

under the skylight.



9 a.m.

Purging the past

ready to dump the clutter

I glare at the locked gate.



10 a.m.

Picnicking early,

peeking through the flap of a trash can,

puppet-like squirrel.



11 a.m.

Woodpeckers tapping,

two head-to-head, unconcerned;

their tree is now a fence.



12 p.m.

Silhouette on a post;

even with glasses I squint -

yes! a bluebird!



1 p.m.

We gape open-mouthed

8 a.m. in the parking lot;

sparrow mimes, "It's hot."



2 p.m.

Enjoying warm sun:

then angry, biting, climbing . . .

I weeded their nest.



3 p.m.

I float a pine branch

offering on our artificial pond -

will the frogs return?



4 p.m.

Hourly I watch

windblown leaves, wandering wildlife, changing sky -

poems are hard work!



5 p.m.

The calendar says

summer vacation but I

still hear students' voices.



6 p.m.

Stalking the last verse

the pond and yard are empty:

time has run out.