Winter Haiku
Skeletons of oak.
Clouds of mist swallow all but
the ghosts of the trees.
Naked willows hang
over a frozen river,
caught in winters sleep.
One last fallen leaf.
One last stream voyage before
the ice holds it still.
Hat brims tip downward
against the driving rainfall.
No one sees the crow.
Breath billows in clouds.
The wind steals beneath the door
reddening the cheeks.
Quiet quintessence.
Neither grasping nor release
turns the sky westward.
Seed pods crack and burst,
giving their hard-won meat
to the waiting squirrel.
Geese stand on the ice.
The flock has yet to depart–
Still remembering.
A cracked earthen pot.
It is all the soul requires
to linger awhile.
Gold beads of honey
drip down from the window sill.
Sun through melting ice.
Stars glow and cluster
Like sparks from a distant fire
mirrored in the lake.
Clouds of mist swallow all but
the ghosts of the trees.
Naked willows hang
over a frozen river,
caught in winters sleep.
One last fallen leaf.
One last stream voyage before
the ice holds it still.
Hat brims tip downward
against the driving rainfall.
No one sees the crow.
Breath billows in clouds.
The wind steals beneath the door
reddening the cheeks.
Quiet quintessence.
Neither grasping nor release
turns the sky westward.
Seed pods crack and burst,
giving their hard-won meat
to the waiting squirrel.
Geese stand on the ice.
The flock has yet to depart–
Still remembering.
A cracked earthen pot.
It is all the soul requires
to linger awhile.
Gold beads of honey
drip down from the window sill.
Sun through melting ice.
Stars glow and cluster
Like sparks from a distant fire
mirrored in the lake.