What appears to have been the Scottish ‘summer’ is now apparently at an end. The first of what I imagine will be plenty of Autumn haiku are below…

Storm
Violent spatter
Against a square of slate sky.
Bulbous autumn storms.

Song
An empty grate, yet
That smell of red embers, of
Songs sung, lilted verse.
*Thanks for reading, folks. Images courtesy of David Wagner and Peakpx. My recent short stories include ‘Rendered Soft‘ and ‘Across the Glassine‘.
Matthew Richardson is a writer of short stories. His work has featured in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Close to the Bone, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, Flashback Fiction, Cafelit, Best MicroFiction 2021, Writer’s Egg, Idle Ink, The Wild Word, and Shooter magazine. He is a doctoral student at the University of Dundee, a lucky husband, and a proud father. He blogs at www.matthewjrichardson.com.

Two beautiful haikus, Matthew. And yes, the summer has almost gone (for you), but I really like your autumn poems.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Chris. We’ll be grudgingly giving it back to you in SA (you make far better use of it!).
LikeLiked by 1 person
enjoyed these, Matt, esp ‘bulbous autumn storms’ —
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks John. As you might be able to tell, the weekend was a wash out for us!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Always excellent, Matthew. The grate moved me from the song of crackling embers to a happy campfire gathering.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Annie – surely one of the most wholesome images in the world!
LikeLiked by 1 person