a mined gouge in the hilly, green landscape: reclaimed by trees.
Reclamation [Haiku]
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Something shakes the high grass,
what it is I can't say.
I see flowers tremble,
near a part-line splay.
I hear dry stems rattle
to some darting moves.
But a creature's existence
still remains unproved.
Maybe it's delirium,
or a trick of the wind.
I catch no flash of fur
on which my claim to pin.
Even from the watchtower,
my grounds are circumstantial.
I can't give proof of life --
at least not that's substantial.

summer sun so bright
the sunflowers take a break,
& turn backs to light.

summer evening:
long shadows climb steps
their source won’t reach.