Lazy
Too old to freshen, Grandad’s favorite Guernsey
chews cud in the shade of a walnut tree — breath
rhythmic and measured, as if summer itself
had steeped her bones. The one crooked horn
only adds to her dignity.
just enough breeze
to ripple a day moon
in the trough
windmill blades churning
a buttermilk sky
haikuKATHA #45, July 2025
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