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Wednesday, March 04, 2015

Dark Dancing Mirrors


A gray dreary day;
Long icicles are melting;
The eaves are dripping.


A gray blur of birds,
In and out of the feeder
Fluttering their food.

Air is filled with wet;
Water glistens in the road;
Snow banks look sullen.

Dry plants in the snow
Make it look even whiter
In the gray morning.


No sign of the stream,
Not even faint tinkling;
Just mounds of white snow.


The dirty snow ball
Sits on top of the snow bank
Painted by car fumes.


 Is this still winter
Or the beginning of Spring?
Where the hell am I?


Dark dancing mirrors
Play below the road surface,
Shimmer in the breeze.


Friday, February 20, 2015

Quick! Write the Haiku!


It's the same window;
Same sun playing in the snow;
(Everything is different).


Wind chime is silent;
It shakes gently in the wind;
But utters no sound.



Pine cones in snow banks
Planted like some winter seeds,
Never to flourish.


Winds up the iced road
My nose gets even colder.
(The wind chill factor).

Ice blue in the cold--
Newspaper on the driveway.
(It's not shivering).

Just a few seconds
Before my fingers get numb.
Quick! Write the haiku!

While streams are frozen
Water in this old bucket
Keeps on trickling.

Footprints in the snow
Pass through sunlight and shadows
Traveling nowhere.

In the bare branches
Lighting up the gray and white
A brilliant cardinal. 

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

(Listen to the Woods)

 How many cold words
Freeze in the English language?
How many ice words?


 Shadows on the snow
Lie silent without motion
As if they're frozen.

Greeted by the sun
This icy day feels warm;
Hope from the sun's warmth.

The fence has succumbed;
Snow climbs higher and higher;
Wire can't keep it out.

Shadows on snow dunes,
Permanent in the sunshine.
(Both will melt away).

Woodpecker flutters
Silently from tree to tree;
Still there are no taps.

"KEEP OUT!" the signs shriek;
The woods are still inviting.
(Listen to the woods).

Plodding through the snow
Mother takes her kid to school.
Routines continue.

Monday, February 16, 2015

Like a Ghostly Butterfly

Icicles hanging--
They don't care about the sun;
Just the freezing cold.


Where are the birds now?
Is it too cold for breakfast?
Freezing starvation?


 Saplings in the snow bank,
Up to their ears in the white.
Still, the green shines through.

In the frigid snow
Three ghostly stalks are standing--
Summer memories.

High on the mountain
Kids' voices in the cold air--
Snow boards and screeches.

The bends in the road
After all these many walks
Still a mystery.

A single pine cone
More visible than the woods
Lies in its shadow.

The Christmas mailbox,
Its ornaments are hidden
By relentless snow.

Leaf skitters on snow
Like a ghostly butterfly
Aimlessly searching.

Sunday, February 15, 2015

Why Do They Fear Me

 Far in the distance
Skier glides over snow field
Swiftly and smoothly.


Why do they fear me
These birds that eat on my porch?
I set their table!


Wood wind chimes ring out
Welcoming the winter wind;
(Just for a second).


 Olivia looks--
Then steps out of her warm barn
(And back in again).


Where is the stream now?
Buried under frozen snow.
No water tinkles.


They're no longer dark--
Deep woods lit up by the snow;
Bright Sunday morning.


 Suddenly the wind
Rips snow from the evergreens;
Creates its own storm.

No longer mobile
Snow covered car sits and waits
For the Spring to come.