Birds trill, extolling
the organ pipe cactus blooms
tuning up backstage.
My dog, seeing me wearing shorts and walking shoes, thinks it’s time for our morning constitutional. Her anticipation is contagious, and everything outside seems to be waiting for an audience. However, today’s cooler temperatures mean there’s no need to rush to avoid the heat. I think I should be able to finish a cup of coffee, a haiku or maybe even a tanka.
Cats lurk behind the bushes
ready to surprise the dog.
Today we take a different route, attracted by a tree with bright purple flowers. As a bonus, we pass a saguaro full of blossoms, bees and birds. Even better, we seem to have missed the cats or found a feline-free zone. Our own cat is waiting at home, watching grackles through the window.
Denise, this is a fabulous Haibun/Tanka and I really love how the prose split the poem. This is so creative and really tells an excellent story. Your photos are fabulous. I love the spring dessert and all the blooms! Fabulous! ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful images. So bright and vibrant.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is beautiful, I love the play of the cat and dog.
LikeLike
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I really enjoyed this poem, separated by bits of prose.
LikeLike
Thank you!
LikeLike
[…] week, I’ve chosen Denise, as the Poet of the Week from her blog, Bilocalalia. I loved the presentation of her Haibun/Tanka. Notice how she split the last two lines of her Tanka […]
LikeLike
Thank you!!
LikeLike
Wonderful Denise and love the photos. Sally
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Denise, for your winning contribution, keep up the good work, as I know you will.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
[…] week, I’ve chosen Denise, as the Poet of the Week from her blog, Bilocalalia. I loved the presentation of her Haibun/Tanka. Notice how she split the last two lines of her Tanka […]
LikeLike
[…] a grizzly reminder of numbered days. Meanwhile, far beyond the wheat fields of the Great Plains, a grackle makes the same rusty call in the Arizona backyard we left […]
LikeLike