haiku.blog
A new day a new haiku
—
by
Under the oak tree A mist of purple heather Shelter from the storm
Can you hear the deer? If you close your eyes and stop Can you smell heather?
Heather crowded out By brambling bracken and birch Dark history exhumed
Swept over purple And carved out of the hillside Beneath to above
Dark heather stretches Bleak across the prickly heath Coal seams lay beneath