Morning Haiku and Waka – August 29, 2015

there, in the dawn each morning
a promise seems to linger
something new will come about
but then it passes

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hear the bells
like every morning they chime
echoing at dawn
then the silence pulses
inside like a waterfall

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an old dusty trail
wind-blown and rutted
a banjo plays
somewhere in my memory
hides the Grand Ole Opry

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Saturday morning I think of pancakes – Mom in the kitchen humming.

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Late summer – their chicks grown,  the swallows fill the morning sky in silence.

© G.s.k. ‘15