An airborne fantasy, Gliding upon mental Astral metaphors.
Morning Haiku – 116
Becoming eagle: The hooked bill a butcher’s blade And talons tearing.
Morning Haiku – 115
Again freedom was trapped In the vortices whirling from Jittering wing tips.
Morning Haiku – 114
Drown wings shimmering, Spray ejected from the fraught Fastness of foaming feathers.
Morning Haiku – 113
Eyes, wide as the east, Wings, smashed against the pother, Surface-bound, escaping.
Morning Haiku – 112
Then carving further Under globular bait ball, came A blood frenzied hunter.
Morning Haiku – 111
Then, a dive, deep, Under the carving current, Starving for fish pickings
Morning Haiku – 110
Wide wings glide,Held up in the streaming wild,Tumult below, ahead.
Morning Haiku – 109
And in that whim Of flattened, fattened ocean, A journey started.
Morning Haiku – 108
But rushing caught meRushing from spring to sea,A rushing whim to see.