For the past few weeks, I’ve been posting new South Common haiku on my Facebook page. For those who are not into the FB thing, following are some that got the best responses.—PM

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Return of the South Common Haiku

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Mourning doves en groupe.

Red hawk atop gray steeple.

One crow makes a crowd.

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Fall rain knocks down leaves.

I can smell the maple ones

drying in their veins.

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The cracked paved walkways

absorb our democratic

foot-falls of going.

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In the middle of

the middle of the city–

bag, pine, feather, moon.

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Night hangs on longer

each day now–I just won’t walk

into a dark park.

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Red isn’t ready

in the countless cold leaves.

The cars sound far off.

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Seven bumble bees

mop up the pink stonecrop blooms—

where did the hawk go?

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Ant mills on the slope,

symmetrical, by the book.

Two guys sleeping out.

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So many babies

amid the smashed beer bottles–

Take the free pine cones.

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Look for Hank Thoreau

in the Owl Diner, drinking

eternity juice.

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V of southward geese

over the old stone jailhouse—

cool blue fall re-set.

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—Paul Marion (c) 2012