Haiku-a-day
A bleak field of black dried flower stalks against snow in winter.

Without you trotting
out ahead of me, sniffing,
there’s only absence.

Haiku-a-day
A black and white dog basking in a clump of goldenrod on a sunny day.

Contained in your joy,
goldenrod to be walked through —
sun on eyelashes.

Haiku-a-day
A black and white dog and a woman together in a deep forest.

Under many skies,
we knew that we were lucky —
our eyes on the world.

Haiku-a-day
A black and white dog starting out along a snowy path in a deep forest.

We stepped through them soft,
every thicket and forest,
mysteries each time.

Haiku-a-day
The silhouetee of a man holding the leash of a black and white dog sniffing a branch along the path in a deep forest.

Eyes always open,
sensing the hidden things, nose
up and catching scents.

Haiku-a-day

Frost on the cold earth —
at home under the spring moon,
you fell to the ground.

Haiku-a-day
A black and white dog walks under a large clump of wild daisy fleabane on a sunny day.

Ears scented with earth,
you came out of the tall grass,
lived your life with us.

Haiku-a-day
A black and white dog looks happily over his shoulder at the camera on a sunny day among dried milkweed.

Earlier this month
you stood among the milkweed,
smiled and walked and walked.

For Mack

Haiku-a-day
A black and white dog looks happily over his shoulder in the snowy woods on a sunny day.

Towards our deep forest,
sixteen degrees and we ran,
owls hooted, sun shone.

Haiku-a-day
A black and white dog looks happily at the foot of a forest with long shadows and low sun in late November.

The world without you,
you’re on that path alone now,
everything is strange.

For Mack

Haiku-a-day
Sun shining on dried flower stems in a meadow in late November.

Your big closed-eye smile,
sun warming the cold meadow —
I’ll look for you here.

For Mack

Haiku-a-day
A black and white dog looks happily at the foot of a forest with long shadows and low sun in late November.

You take the lead now,
decide on the right forest,
blue sky, long shadows
(and wait for us there).

For Mack

Haiku-a-day

The stars make strange shapes,
not meant to be understood,
we two underneath.

For Mack

Haiku-a-day
A black and white dog looks happily over a field with the sun low in the sky with sun dogs on either side in late November.

I’m greedy for time,
the circle won’t be broken,
sun dogs in the sky.

Haiku-a-day
Milkweed husks with seeds floating outside of them in a field among dried goldenrod in mid-November.

Here with Jane Kenyon,
James Wright, Theodore Roethke,
in the otherworld.

Haiku-a-day
A pair of milkweed seed husks, one empty and one full of seeds in mid-November.

Chambered like a heart,
steadfast as a pair of lungs,
milkweed husks beat, breathe.

Haiku-a-day
A robin in a tree lit from below by a setting sun at a pond in mid-November.

The last hours of light,
twittering at the green pond
from all directions.