My serenity cracks with their loud talk. Should I move my blanket? Will moving or not moving be more of a disruption to this zen tranquility I’m trying to cultivate? There is sweat on my forehead. I must wipe it away. Get comfortable again. Maybe I should go for a walk instead.

pummeling waves
the shells rearrange
into sand

I sink into the chatter of gulls. I become the chatter, the wind that lifts and returns. The balance of the stray hair brushing my face. The thready weight of it, the tickle. The breath of my pores, the stoma of leaves, drop by drop. I let it be.

Kat Lehmann

is a haiku poet, a potter, and a scientist based in Connecticut, USA. Her poetry has been nominated for Best of the Net and has been honored in The Haiku Foundation Touchstone Awards (individual poem), the Haiku Society of America Harold G. Henderson Haiku Award, and Japan’s Basho-an Award. She is a judge in the inaugural Trailblazer Contest. As a give-back to the larger community, Kat seeds free copies of her books in public spaces throughout the United States, and now in more than a dozen countries, as part of her Ripples of Kindness project. Her third book, Stumbling Toward Happiness, shares her notes of self-exploration.

Author’s website: https://songsofkat.com/