Kids grow parents die
Looks jobs bosses partners change
In this dance of time
It’s true normal’s just
A dryer setting meaning
Tumbling in hot wind
So we all need things
To hold onto — tumbleweeds
Are so hard to hug
Friends dogs coffee God
Things that don’t just blow away
When storms are brewing
Spaces inside, out
Spaces life can’t rearrange
Unless we say so
We all need our rocks
To build our peace on, knowing
The sands will get in
From June 28:
Haiku hiatus
Internet independence
Vacation beckons!
Who knows what treasures
In 17 syllables
I’ll bring back with me?
In the meantime, friends,
Enjoy your respite; I know
My targets will, too
And “For those about to beach, we salute you,” from June 30:
My toes in the sand
Big umbrella overhead
Small one in my drink
Let God count the grains
Of sand; my kids will track them
Back to the hotel
Surf sound so soothing
All of this year’s pent-up stress
Goes out with the tide
Greg's Hack-u 