sugar wool—
in the long queue
short tempers

sugar wool—
in the long queue
short tempers

summer night’s dream—
and on the eighth day
she made a bear

evening hour—
sound of the wind
from the mountain
.
This is a later stage of the felting

Alpine air—
scent of the bubbling
stream

the old flame’s
swirling skirts …
summer’s day

bouncing light
togetherness in a group
portrait

cooling down
the weight of this heat
.

summer grass
the tortoise overtakes
the hare
.
I am planning a tortoise race this Saturday and these are the badges I've made for the tortoises (suspiciously similar to the two local football clubs 🙂 ).

blues song
the barmaid wipes
her tears

summer solstice
the delayed train
of thought

swamps and floodplains
the carved basalt head
covered in wool

strong current
a chunk of earth floats out
to sea

morning post
scent of the letter marked
X

wisdom?
even a philosopher
gets spots

dawn walk—
fragrance of silk white
peonies

dense thicket
the wounded doe runs
for cover

Pleased to see my haiku in issue 127 of ‘Hedgerow’ edited by Caroline Skanne! Thank you Caroline!


Three of my haiku were translated into Bulgarian and included in the anthology Peonies edited by Iliyana Stoyanova! Thank you, Iliyana!


water meadows
a frog I don’t know
answers my croak

late sunset
waiting to release
the balloons

for your journey …
we fold your dreams
under your pillow

summer solstice
I pick flowers
for my hair
.
(Photo: laying out the wool before wet felting)

Fata Morgana
the drift
to the unknown

tricks of the light …
above and below
the horizon

bridging
the gap between us—
telescope

silk threads—
we are in this
together


the baby
unfurling her fists …
peony buds

her first vowels
the way she says
"aah"

fiery sunset—
rock pools filling up
with night
