through winter grey clouds

terracotta-smudged light

softly diffused sky

at home together

in solitary bubbles

of contemplation

such a lovely sky

this feeling of foreboding

a choir singing O

red sky this morning

the distant sound of traffic

blue light screaming by

such beautiful words

a haiku society

each moment unique

the air hangs heavy

not even grass whispering

after the storms pass

the sun insipid

ashamed to show his wan face

hides behind pale clouds

bumping chest to chest

two doves their wings aflutter

dancing in the air

a night of stories

listening while writers take you

into other worlds

a knock at the door

the dog runs from the masked man

who reads our meter