(2015)
Winter Haiku
Summer is near it’s end, I regret not visiting my childhood home, near the gulf, where the sunset
The white snow lay gently on the ground in a swirl pattern. The sky, a slab of smooth grey stone.
Yellow finches Line the bird feeder Against Spring’ s canopy Of green and purple tapestry. Back and forth they go
Orange full moon with a half smile, a hanging lantern, lighting the way, through dark streets,
Looking at my journal’s Blank page While geese fly by and honk A greeting. The red cardinals
I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,
Sitting on the lake shore, Which made my heart soar, The water rippled at times, Swirled into beautiful lines, Clouds reflected in it’s mirror,
Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences
Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle
Time is going by fast, Trying not to live in the past, To keep priorities straight And not falter at the gate. To join the universal goal
Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon
The birds flock to the bird feeder, some with black, capped heads and others with
My heart is a good heart, It beats strongly And works hard, To keep me alive. My mind is a good mind,
The buck in the garden Chewing up hard earned Labor, His antlers raise, His ears perk up, as
Birds flying here and there, landing on branches to chirp and bare, their heart. A private club among the trees with their own private code.