Haiku for Adelle
by Christopher Bernard

Adelle Foley

I bend down to pick

   up, in the fragrant garden,

   a sleek, dark feather.

   A fallen glove. A

   smell of cloves and grass. Far off,

   a small, drunken bell.

   If death is sleep, you

   are like the little mountain flowers

   folding under a vanishing sun.

   At times like this

   I ask impossible questions,

   like an abandoned child.

   Nightshade. Day lily.

   Noon. A hummingbird sips sweet water

   from my astonished hand.

Adelle Joan Foley (1940−2016) regularly appeared in performances of the choral poems of her husband, Jack Foley. She also wrote haiku.

Christopher Bernard is a regular contributor to Synchronized Chaos.