Haiku
michelle’s 50th—
streamers, salsa, and a fly
on a pink balloon
cold breath
across the fence, mist lingers
on withered fields
the sword above
the mantle
reflects a flutter
of red silk
under the porch
lantern
she picks out chestnuts to roast
time to throw
away
stones gathered and cherished
so long ago
in moon shade
a plunging bobber—
is that a keeper?
through the gate
along the circling path
she walks and waits
white foam
at the turning tide
pebbles mumble
About
Margaret D. McGee