I

bees swarm in the broccoli
dry soil gasping for respite
you draw painful breath

II

weather charts flush red
paddocks painted pale yellow
bird baths half empty

III

possums stomp above
waiting for hot dawn to sleep
long after you're gone

For this week's #creativegarden prompt, I stupidly set the prompt 'haiku', forgetting I'd have to write one myself, as I always do. I'm not good at haiku. When I read what the masters do, and people like @boxcarblue and @owasco on Hive, there's always a sharp intake of breath at the majesty of their verse. There's a sharp, briliant melancholy to haiku that I admire.

Thinking of the 'garden' theme, my thoughts are of my parent's garden, an acre down on the coast full of natives. Even in his dying days and struggling for breath, my father laments and worries over the rabbits and possums. Old habits die hard. They are pests, I know, but I do reprimand him that he doesn't need to add that to his pain. Perhaps everything else is processed, and it's only that that's left.

So. my haiku - the hot summer approaching, the possums running over the hot corrugated iron roof, the yellowing paddocks, the birds desperate for water, the flowering brassica.