Haiku etc.

A train passing
into early darkness
I sit alone

November haiku … Find me here if the bird app fails! 

“view from a dream”

klindbeck:

I dreamed
the clouds came lower still
until I touched the sky
and plucked the rain
until my thirst was satisfied

Photo and title, Mary Frances  , tanka mine 

If I understood
the alphabet of dragonflies
under this palimpsest of cloud  
the angels of shadow
 could not touch me

Today

people are born give birth and die
trees sprout and grow and fall
my mind can’t even hold this world
much less Your breath within us all

Today
I have forgotten
our argument
but the butterfly that
interrupted is still bright

No, I can’t explain
you need to look closer
deep into my eyes
in these cold oceans
of my dreaming mind   trees grow    

a decade of snow haiku

Snow? Rain?
the night sky can’t decide
I shut the door

Forgetting the cold
I watch light caress snow
a chickadee calls

Dog comes in
snow in the gray twilight
lighter than the sky

Snow reveals
a fox has walked
our summer path

Silently
snow covers the lost ball
the broken doll

Red begonia
on the windowsill echoes
sunset over snow

blue sky
white snow
blue jay

Winter morning
on the tree out my window
a nestful of snow

Soft snow falling
two horses take shelter
under the pine

Christmas eve 
every pine bough in the headlights 
bears its load of snow 

Vermont Autumn Haiku

August 

Dry summer, then cold
With opening goldenrod
a tree starts turning

Sunlit field
dreaming of autumn
milkweed in the wind 

As twilight deepens
the wind-blown hydrangea
shines whiter 

September 

Down by the pond
one last toad hops away from me
through goldenrod 

One bumblebee 
explores the fading bee balm 
September    

The white limbs
of birches holding leaves
half green half golden

One more cold day
and still the tiny apples
taste so sour!

October

Amid fallen leaves
one last blossoming
of dandelions

Sun after rain
one tree then a dozen
kindled

How fast it scrambles
through the goldenrod –
October bee

Wind and rain –
the golden ceiling
falls to our feet.

Already asters
wilting over fallen leaves
a cloudy day

Autumn
down to embers
still warms me

High wind in the pines
the sound of something giant
on its way

Autumn sunset
this shifting brass cloud
of birch leaves

thinning clouds
on bare black branches
each raindrop shines

Ice on the puddles –
larch, oak, and trembling aspen
hold autumn’s last gold

November

November warmth
I bow to my noon shadow
taller than I am

Brittle clumps of snow 
click softly on my jacket –  
gray windless woods