The sun is a melon ripening on the kitchen counter. I press my thumb to the skin to check if it is ready to eat.
A bird is singing in a nearby tree. I admonish myself for not being able to identify the soloist by the song. A guide book will only get you so far.
A mother waded into the pool, her breath stolen by the cold water. The daughter, chin deep in chlorine and sunshine said, “It’s fine over here, Mom.”
At the pool
Mermaids pretending to be
Little girls
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This haibun is lovely; it bubbles over with the feeling of summer
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