Trimeric Contest by Janice Canerdy ~ September 1, 2024
The world still sleeps at dawn's first blush when trilling birds tickle my ear. I welcome the dirge of a thrush as sunlight's tepid breath draws near. When trilling birds tickle my ear and morning skies are pastel pink, I dip my feathered quill in ink. I welcome the dirge of a thrush helping his mate to build a nest. It's the time of day I like best. As sunlight's tepid breath draws near, I've written a verse of Haiku of rose petals dripping with dew.
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