striking while the pen is dipped

Hands reaching a breeze

Instead brush the tender scar

Deer chew cuds, eyes closed.

In hommage to the fawns I've yet to see on the walking trail. . .and my first attempt at Haiku. I'm stepping out on a limb here but will keep working at it. Likewise, this hydrangea reminded me that I'm always in transition some way or another.

Happy Monday, my bloggy friends!

Y