Dried leaves
tumbling and tapping down
the street.
Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits
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Young oak’s
straight shadow in cold light.
Dried leaves cling.
Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits
I pause –
the heavy air on
wet leaves.
Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits
Piles on the ground;
too many leaves have fallen.
They rustle, then rot.
Ken Wagner on Haiku Habits