Thursday morning near the end of April, looking out the window, I’m surprised by the softness of the sun, the soft air. Grey diffused light, kindly, generously, impartially warms the back yard of my house. Taking a cup of coffee and a bowl of fruits and grains, I sit in the fresh air and early light. The air – agreeable, bright sounds of birds calling. Far away are city sounds of engines – distant machines working in transportation and construction. The air – aroma of warming plants and dirt in the growing green yard swirls in currents. The soft grey air. Listening looking smelling the spring.
spring morning yard, chair, soft sun grey sky early light listen – songs of birds symphony of many things look at that. I have no words. This poem was written in April 2021 in the style of a Japanese haibun, a literary form that combines prose and haiku. In this case the final five lines are a tanka which follows a five-line, 5/7/5/7/7 syllable count.
© Dan Sharp