Here is one I just wrote about a 4th of July memory.
The boom of fireworks:
Beside a pitch-dark back road
A small dog lies dead.
To balance the gloom of that one, I'll add one that is lighter:
On the putting green
a caterpillar crawls toward
a tree with one leaf.
[This message has been edited by Martin Elster (edited October 17, 2008).]
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