Posts tagged poetry
Haiku-a-day
A pair of Mute swans in silhouette on a pond at sunset in November.

The wind comes in cold,
I’ve got a sadness lurking —
Mute swans preen and preen.

Haiku-a-day
A tree trunk and three large rocks at the edge of a river in November.

The air’s been let out,
hardly any birdsong heard,
the bare bones of earth show.

Haiku-a-day
Faint sun coming out behind clouds to briefly reflect in a river in November.

November sun breaks
weakly on the cold river —
everything changes.

Haiku-a-day
A detail of the painting, Sunshine in the Cottage by John Phillip, of a dog regarding a beam of sunlight on the floor in a house.

Sunlight on the floor
is astounding on its own —
we forgive, forget.

Haiku-a-day
Turkeytail mushroom blooming on a decaying log in the forest.

Quietly blooming
like sunsets, seashells, stacked clouds,
deep forest fungi.

Haiku-a-day
Sun sets behind a field of yellow grasses in November.

Standing under sun,
she leans on her walking stick,
her lambs crunch the grass.

Haiku-a-day
Yellow grasses in November.

All good or nothing —
thinking of the warm wheat field,
the sower’s good seeds.

Haiku-a-day
A close-up view of a seashell-shaped turkeytail mushroom.

Breaking the bleak day,
fungi, moss, and lichen bloom
in late November.

Haiku-a-day
A superoon just before sunrise behind bare branches and maples still holding leaves in November.

The bright morning moon
hangs above my mother’s house,
maples hold their leaves.

Haiku-a-day
A young deer with her neck down eating in fall.

Young deer listening —
ears alert, crunching acorns,
cold coming on quick.

Haiku-a-day
A deer with antlers in November on a forested riverbank.

Antlers kept above,
he swam across the river
and disappeared fast.

Haiku-a-day
A nearly full moon behind bare tree branches against a blue sky.

Branches hold the moon —
geese call and fill the whole sky
with sounds of leaving.

Haiku-a-day
Canadian geese preen on a riverbank as the sun sets.

Unbothered by us,
geese congregate riverside,
preening with shadows.

Haiku-a-day

Clouds like a Sunday
pull over us as we walk,
criss-crossed in the sky.

Haiku-a-day
Seven Canadian geese fly in a V against a bright blue sky.

Each one an arrow,
seven geese honk in a V —
a world of their own.