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Monday, December 19, 2005

Specks of white float down;
They dance in the morning sun.
Passing snow flurry.

Wind across the field
Picks up the cold of the snow
And roars in my ear.

One white speck of snow
Disappears into the road.
Now there are others.

Swiftly sunlight flees;
Suddenly everything's gray.
Then poof! Sun is back.

My feet crunch the ice
Then they squoosh the softer snow.
Winter percussion.

Now they're on the porch--
The two grizzled old black dogs;
Always together.

Specks in the sunlight,
Snow flakes driven by the snow.
They're racing nowhere.

Now they are sleeping
Their gray muzzles snout to snout.
The two old dog friends.

Clean bridge of ice
Across the racing waters.
A December stream.

Saturday, December 17, 2005

The sunlight is fresh;
It washes the white snow field
And paints the red barn.

On the soft snow lawn
The schnauzer lies and watches;
A brown teddy bear.

The wind is hollow;
It echoes around my ears,
Then it disappears.

Stream is iced over,
Snow covers the dark waters.
Do they flow under?

Bells hang from mailbox:
Shiny green and bright silver.
A Yuletide posting

Straight lines on the snow;
Here a square, there triangle.
Sun's geometry.

The road glistens wet;
Square sign shade on the snow.
The sun is playing.

Thursday, December 15, 2005

Bright light on the snow;
Trees cast their shadows starkly.
Car sounds far away.

The stream is quiet;
Faint rippling under the ice.
A distant tinkle.

High on the snow hill
Two black dogs sit in the sun,
Still, part of the woods.

The woods seem endless;
Stark tree shadows on the snow;
All life is muted.

The white hill is steep;
It ripples the woods higher;
At the top: blue sky.

Sky is clear, cold, blue;
The sun broadcasts the shadows.
It's supposed to rain.

Sunday, December 04, 2005

Chickens watch the snow;
They see the slanting white lines
From the dark barn door.

Tree limbs are frosted;
The stream winds through the white banks.
Snow falls silently.

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Bright sunny morning;
A crisp wind blows in my face.
Somewhere a hammer.

Sun light on the stream
Sparkling the rushing waters.
I grumble aloud.

Ladder in the woods
Lying flat on the brown leaves,
Too tired to stand up.

Car sound in the wind;
Then the car races past me
Leaving just the wind.

Tree limb bends over;
Gnarled branch above the ground.
Ancient canopy.

Spring colors long gone;
Now there are brown shades and green.
A muted rainbow.

Up the sharp steep hill
Mother jogs behind her pram.
Baby sleeps inside.

Faint whiff of a skunk
Drifts from nobody knows where.
Ghost of a fear past.

Friday, December 02, 2005

There's frost on the grass;
There's thin ice near the still stream.
First of December.

Bare bushes rustle;
Ten tiny birds scoot around
Then whoosh to a tree.

The stream flows softly
And tinkles by the road side.
I see a black ghost.

Sun spreads on the fields
Slowly emerging from the clouds,
Like a second dawn.

The trees are bare now
Revealing hidden houses.
Winter strips the veils.

Black dog trots ahead;
He's taking his morning walk.
I follow behind.

A loud whining buzz:
The house takes on a new face.
The smell of cut wood.

Grizzled gray dog barks;
Young black Lab stops in his tracks.
Mexican stand off.

Shadows on the road;
Wind hums softly in my ears.
Then a gray cloud comes.

The woods are humming;
The wind plays between the trees;
The leaves are racing.

The three mailboxes
Stand side by side--one open
Like a hungry mouth.

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

The stream is rushing,
Moist flower smells fill the air.
Is this November?

Streams rush everywhere;
Here a pond, there a river;
Relentless water.

Who shot this raccoon
Left it to die in the woods.
A strange kind of sport.

Water sounds abound
By the road and in the woods.
Late November's flow.

A frog in the road
Doesn't move when I touch it;
Cold, wet and confused.

The stream rushes down
Brushing away the dead leaves;
A roadside torrent.

Crushed worm on the road
Twists and turns and twists again;
Can't extract itself.

Monday, November 28, 2005

It's damp, wet and gray;
The snow disappears into the fog.
I can't see the field

Ghost trees touch the sky;
Yellow car lights cut the fog.
The stream still burbles.

There is no sun now,
Only the soft endless fog
And the gray silence.

The raccoon is still;
No longer does it whimper.
It's part of the ground.

Two trees together
Their branches are intertwined
Like old wooden friends.

In the beat up house
Colored things scurry about.
The t.v. is on.

Crow calls in the fog;
It is nowhere to be seen.
There is just its cry.

It's noon in morning;
Thick fog hides the time of day.
Snow man is melting.

Sunday, November 27, 2005

Dark water's ribbon
Snakes through white snow in the woods.
You can just hear it.

A splash of red leaves
Bursts out against the snow field;
Then a splash of sun.

The bright yellow sign:
"Posted: No Hunting, Fishing"
Against the white snow.

A whimpering sound;
Raccoon lies in the cold snow
Crying out his life.

On the cool white snow
Raccoon lies crying, dying;
Near him a small red blotch.

Friday, November 25, 2005

Snow man in the field;
A car splushes on the road.
First snow of the year.

Everyone is gone;
No sound or sight of people;
Woods on Thanksgiving.

Stubborn small flowers
Bend under the weight of snow;
They don't know it's time.

The old jeep passes;
A gust of gas fumes lingers.
Faint child memories.

The old washer waits;
Another scrubless winter.
Snow flakes cover it.

The old black Lab stares
Then turns and sits on the snow;
We know each other.

Monday, November 21, 2005

The bushes are bare
Save for strings of red berries;
Bird rustles inside.

A tiny white moth
Flickering across the road
Follows its shadow.

A child's blue knit cap
Lies on top of the dry leaves.
Where is its owner?

The sun strokes my face;
A lone crow chortles sharply;
Lazy brown leaves lie.

Old Marlboro case;
Soggy beer bottle carton.
Humans trash the woods.

Sun is cold today;
Wind rushes in empty woods.
Ouch! My big toe hurts.

Green ribbon is waving
Hanging from the bare tree branch.
Damn! It's cold out!

Crisp autumn morning;
Broccoli trees face the sky;
Crow barks far away.

Chickens cluck and peck;
Their world is the barnyard ground.
They don't see the clouds.

Geese in a gray sky:
They honk unseen through the clouds.
Wood smoke tangs the air.

Like fragile broccoli
The stripped trees reach to the sky.
Maybe they're praying.

Sniffing the dead leaves
The old black Lab ignores me
Pisses on a sign.

The woods are brown now,
Leaf blankets cover the floor
Snuggled from the snow.

Swish of jeep and van.
The air is filled with gas smell,
Then all is silent.

I check the dead leaves.
Will I find my long last pen?
Hope springs eternal.

The strong post light.
It switches on at nightfall,
Deceived by gray day.

Small white mushroom steps
Climb the standing dead tree trunk.
Soon they'll be yellow.

Soft green mullein plant
Sits among the dead brown leaves
Opening its arms.

Shiny snake of tar
Slithers down the road's center
And joins its fellows.

Slices of sunlight
Cut patterns on the brown leaves
The trees stand so still.

Pine cones on the ground
Lie in beds of brown needles.
Soon, winter's slumber.

Tiny puffs of smoke
Push out of the gray chimney:
The scent of autumn.

Warm breeze even now
With the stark trees and dead leaves.
Seasons overlap.

Sunday, November 06, 2005

Head against a jar
The old black Lab lies in bliss.
His gray whiskers twitch.

A skeleton tree
Against the muted gray sky.
A leaf blower purrs.

Barking dog has stopped
I look up from my notebook.
He has turned around.

My mind is racing;
Can't think about scenery.
Where is my wallet?

A sunless stillness;
The leaves on the road don't stir;
One drifts from the sky.

Next to the bushes
Darkness on the sunless road.
Stain of a shadow?

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

After Halloween
Bat leaves skitter like raindrops.
Ghost clouds sweep the sky.

A soft wind's whistle
Awakens faint memories.
Brown leaves are rustling.

The schnauzer bellows;
The little basset follows suit.
They just want to play.

First dark and then light
The clouds move like passing moods.
I follow along.

Monday, October 31, 2005

The ancient phone book
Is still stuffed in the tree crotch.
Nobody's calling.

Lone purple clover
Stands on a sea of brown leaves.
How long will it last?

Soft green mullein plant
Spreads out its welcoming arms:
"Come, I will heal you."

White thorn branches bend;
The tempting berries are gone.
Now there's just prickles.

Washer in the woods
Awaits another season
But never sees clothes.

Where is my old pen?
Dropped into the dead brown leaves;
In oblivion.

High in the bare tree
A large bird's nest is revealed
No longer hidden.

Neat stack of cut logs;
Gray smoke puff from the chimney;
Spice smell of burnt wood.

Dead leaves on the tree
Still clinging to the branches.
Will they ever fall?

Thursday, October 27, 2005

Four leaves on a tree;
Just a gust of wind will do;
Then the tree's bare.

Small purple flowers
Peep out from the sea of brown.
They make their last stand.

Sky and earth are still;
Something's bound to start falling.
Is it rain or snow?

Last leaf on a branch:
Will not be there tomorrow.
Just a puff of wind.

The grizzled black dog
Looks up and gives me a glance.
We are silent friends.

Lost in the brown leaves
My small silver bullet pen.
It's gone forever.

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Leaves are skittering;
They dance in the cool sunlight,
Then one slaps my mouth.

Leaf slides to the ground,
Gently, slowly it descends.
Then, a burst of wind.

A bright glistening:
Something sparkles on dead leaves.
Ah, it's a beer can.

Monday, October 24, 2005

Spice smell of dead leaves;
The sun paints the trees yellow.
Chickens are clucking.

Burbling, whispering,
The stream races through the woods;
Where is it going?

The trees are naked;
Now deep woods are visible.
Still, there's mystery.

The marsh is still green;
Nearby, leaves float from the trees.
Two worlds, side by side.

Brightly glowing tree;
The sun illumines the leaves.
A breeze sprinkles them.

The leaves are sailing.
They float through the air like kites
And rest on the road.

The woods are silent;
Then a throbbing van passes:
Stench of tobacco.

Friday, October 21, 2005

Carpet of brown leaves.
The deep woods are undressing.
I can see farther.

A high rasping hum;
The chains saw cuts through the air.
A whiff of wood smoke.

A pile of brown leaves.
Through trees I see mountain tops.
The view is longer.

The faded red barn;
Pale moon in the cool blue sky;
Autumn is waking.

Cluster of bare trees;
Almost all the leaves are gone.
Shadows on the road.

A puff of yellow:
The maple lights up the road.
The air is spicy.

Black dogs on brown leaves:
They lift their heads and bellow,
Then plop back to sleep.

Tiny blue flowers
Wilt and droop in the chill air,
But yellow persists.

Shining milk weed pods
Hang full in the autumn air.
Their time will be soon.

The woods are mottled now;
Yellow leaves and brown carpet;
Patches of sunligh

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Glowing blue asters
Amidst jewel weed, Queen Anne's lace.
The bee has a feast.

Still and suspended
A dragonfly on a twig.
Then it zooms upward.

The sun hits my face;
In the bushes crickets chirp;
A caressing breeze.

I kick the brown leaves;
They rasp dryly on the road.
Only a few now.

Leaf floats to the ground;
The woods are carpeted brown;
From this year or last?

A warm gust of breeze;
A rain of leaves flutters down.
Brown is mixed with green.

Goats in the barn door
Braying in the morning sun.
Butterflies flutter.

Sunday, September 11, 2005

The field is mowed now.
Green and brown mix on the hill.
The air is pungent.

Above seagull cries;
The bird is far from the sea.
Is it really lost?

I sit on a rock
A bug buzzes near my ear;
Sun and breeze kiss me.

Swaying feathered ferns
Cluster together on a hill.
Below: plastic bag.

Between the two trees
Three spider webs hang like nets;
Now they catch the sun.

Yellow goldenrod
Waves gently in the sunlight;
The field is brightened.

Not all trees are green;
Yellow leaves catch the sunlight.
A brown one falls down.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

A paper doll lies
Staring up at the blue sky
Surrounded by grass.

Cobwebs in the grass
Sparkle in the morning sun
Catching the dew drops.

Table saw buzzes
Cutting through the morning light
Then even that fades.

A car purrs softly;
Overhead a plane drones on.
Then, just the cricket.

A red car roars past;
Brown leaves scatter in the road;
Frog plops into grass.

Hollow shots echo;
A leaf shudders to the ground.
There's no connection.

Leaves shine in the shade;
The sun has not yet reached them.
Soon they will be dry.

Brown leaf floats slowly;
A bird calls from the treetop;
Bug buzzes in my ear.

A big gray horsefly
Sits in the shade of the road.
I leave it alone.

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Startled bird rises
Fills the air with fluttered sounds.
Then stillness again.

Black dog in shadows
Lies down merging with darkness.
Anonymous peace.

Leaf congregation
Gathered on the sunny road.
Butterfly shadows.

Where do the woods end?
Green and dark go on and on.
A woodpecker pecks.

Brown leaf on the road
Lost among the dark shadows.
Wait! There's another.

Hoo Hoo Hoo Krek Krek
Birds talk in the morning sun.
Squished rabbit on road.

Dove on a phone wire
Sees me and flutters away.
A fat van roars by.

Birds call far away;
Bees humming break the silence;
Bugs dart in the sun.

Web between two trees
Catches the morning dew drops.
A gossamer net.

Green briar bushes
Guard the entrance to the woods.
Just go around them.

Woods smell moist and rich;
Shadows compete with sun
And find silent truce.

Insects are humming;
A cricket rushes madly.
Watch out for the truck.

Pop. Pop. The white ball
Clicks across the green table.
Outdoor ping pong game.

Monday, September 05, 2005

The silent sun falls;
Woods, road, sky--all are quiet.
Just my mind chatters.

Sparkle of orange:
Jewel weed plants dot the roadside.
Guardians of Fall.

Soft light in the woods;
Leaves catch the falling sun beams
And drop the shadows.

Happy crickets chirp;
Shadows fall upon the road.
Sun is warm and soft.

Leaves are shimmering;
Gently the sun shines through them.
A lone bird twitters.

How quiet is the woods;
Sun patches fall silently.
Chain saw rips through it.

Sun bright in green fields;
Stalks of yellow radiate.
Goldenrod again.

Road shadows quiver;
Warm breeze shakes the sunlit trees.
Leaves skitter and slide.

Noiseless butterfly
Flutters over the still lawn;
Flowers sway in breeze.

Weaving wire fence;
Twists glistening through the woods.
A gated forest.

Trees touch overhead;
Below, the road is cool, dark.
A moment's relief.

Worm crosses the road;
It wriggles in the sunlight.
Will it get across?

Zebra grasshopper
Flies above the shadowed road.
Sure sign of Autumn.

Tiny pine tree sways;
The sun glistens each needle.
Beer bottle on ground.

The woods seem endless;
Sun and shade pattern the ground.
One leaf floats downward.

The smell of warm grass;
A light breeze tosses my hair.
Nearby, hammer pounds.

Now there is a breeze;
Sunlit leaves tremble softly.
Which one will fall first?

Light climbs the mountain;
Sun patches light up the woods.
A ringing stillness.

A Queen Anne's lace plant
With hundreds of small flowers
Smiles at the sun.

Tree stump in the woods
Surrounded by baby pines.
Soon it will be gone.

A white butterfly
Alights on a white flower;
Both bathed in sunlight.

A blue dragonfly
Flutters between the shadows.
A crow calls three times.

Deep and dappled woods;
Sun illuminates the leaves;
There is just silence.

Everything is still;
Even the stream is quiet.
Startled quail flutters.

Light blue chicory
Sprinkles the edge of the road;
Nearby cricket chirps.

It has been over two months since I have walked Yerry Hill Road. As probably the only person who leaves Woodstock for the chicken farm country of southern New Jersey every summer, I miss the months of July and August here in Woodstock.

But now I am back on the road again. The season is changing and so are the sights along the road. And so are the haiku.

Friday, June 17, 2005

For all of you millions of readers out there. Or for the one or two of you who may have stumbled onto this site. I leave Yerry Hill for two months for the flatlands of southern New Jersey. So here is my last post until the end of August. Happy summer to all!

First clouds and then light,
Gentle breeze brings back the sun.
Butterfly flutters.

Red and orange splash:
Bright colors on the gray road.
Squashed butterfly.

The stream is chortling
Racing headlong to the woods.
It is darker there.

How still the woods are,
Not even a wind's whisper.
Only my breathing.

Sleek Mercedes turns
And drives past its fenced in woods,
Secure from all life.

Monday, June 06, 2005

The sky is gray now;
The grass scented breeze is cool;
Look! Patches of sun.

Incessant chirping,
Unseen bird chatters madly.
Chain saw buzzes alive.

Burst of blue flowers;
Beige mushrooms on dead tree trunks;
Gnats fly in my eyes.

Dandelion puffs
Stand lightly in a circle
Nodding fuzzy heads.

Thursday, May 19, 2005

A breeze touches me;
Birds sing and the sun is soft.
A power line hums.

It's a soft morning;
Shadows lie across the road.
A tree sways gently.

White puffs from the sky:
Seed pods fall swiftly downward
To the hard gray road.

Crumpled near the road
Rusty sign covered by green:
"This land is for sale".

Washer in the woods
Survived another winter.
Doesn't look so old.

In the sky one cloud.
It peeks through the tree branches.
A distant plane hums.

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

Gay puffs of yellow
Soak the sun and light the fields.
They bow in the breeze.

Long, slow line of cars:
A funeral procession.
In one, a friend waves.

Blue blooms in the shade
Add mystery to the woods;
Bird melts into them.

Delicate petals,
Small white flowers grace the road.
Loud sound in the woods!

The leaves are still now;
Sun's rays glow softly through them.
Now they are dancing.

The wind is hollow;
It whispers through the forest
And trembles the leaves.

Lilacs are shaking;
They share their sweet purple smell
With no thought of thanks.

Monday, May 16, 2005

The old brown dog sniffs;
He sees me and runs away,
But comes back to sniff.

The old dog trots by,
Glances at me and goes on.
Two May travelers.

A fence in the woods;
Wire mesh weaves through the forest.
The jailed trees peek out.

White puffs stream past me:
Dandelion seeds en route.
Hurry up and plant!

Sun filters and glows
Through trees, bushes, leaves and grass.
Million shades of green.

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

The road is so still;
Daffodils nod lazily;
A bee buzzes past.

Dark clouds, bright shadows;
A second between two worlds.
Then, no more shadows.

Now the world is dark,
Puffy clouds blot out the sun.
Peepers sing with joy.

On the mountain top
The sun paints the trees with light.
The road is still dim.

It's a yellow time:
Forsythia, dandelions,
And the sun's paintbrush.

Hypnotized robin
Sits at the side of the road,
Sees me, waits and flies.

Sunday, April 17, 2005

Forsythia buds
Reach out, yellow, sleek and small.
Sunday's sun is soft.

Sun touches the trees;
Owl hoots softly far away;
Soft April morning.

Building in the woods,
Hammer sounds and cut wood smell;
Then stillness again.

A warm sunny haze
Casts soft shadows on the ground.
All thoughts disappear.

The yellow dog barks,
Waking from his sunny nap;
Then plops down again.

Stream bubbles softly
A breeze whispers in my ear;
A hidden bird sings.

Friday, April 15, 2005

The rooster's crowing;
Goat stands in the sunlit door.
Hen struts in background.

Long morning shadow;
The sun creeps up behind me.
Will it overtake?

Red buds on tree tops
Lit by sun they face the sky
Waiting to burst forth.

One calls, one answers.
Two birds singing in the woods;
A morning duet.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

Buds are opening;
The soft sunlight touches them;
A bird sings non stop.

Dozing in sunshine
The sleeping dog jerks awake.
Vigilant, he stares.

Bird sounds fill the air;
The field has a touch of green.
A happy frog croaks.

Lightly the bird darts;
Hops from tree trunk to tree trunk
And peeks out at me.

Brown sphere in the woods;
The sun shines on its roundness.
Is it a puffball?

Small carpet of green;
Tiny forest in the woods:
Miniature pine trees

Young pine tree shimmers;
Sun filters through its needles;
Morning glistening.

There are two forests--
Left side: sun splashed and speckled;
Right side: deep and dark.

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

A song bird greets me;
Other birds chirp in the trees.
Sun paints the bushes.

Sun light is changed now.
It kisses the road and trees
And licks the shadows.

The woods are quiet;
Sun-mottled green and shadows.
There's a beer bottle.

Stranger approaches
Smiling in the morning sun.
Above, two geese honk.

The woods seem deeper;
Sun sculptures and rounds the trees.
Dimensions of Spring.

Torn bag near the road;
Twisted plastic on stream bed.
Look! It's labelled "...EARS"

Monday, April 11, 2005

Birds sing on all sides;
The air is cold, bright and clear;
The dog barks again.

The young squirrel watches;
It sits still with twitching tail
And then scoots away.

Stone walls in the woods
Almost touch another.
What do they enclose?

Little yellow buds
Bow their heads as if in sleep;
Waiting for the sunshine.

Two dogs in the woods
Rest for a while on a rock.
Old friends exploring.

Old leaf on the road;
Shadow sharp against the sun.
No breeze disturbs it.

Sunday, April 10, 2005

The green pine tree glows;
Shadows hide in its branches;
Faint shouts of children.

Robin hops then stops;
It pecks at the sunny ground;
Far away dog barks

The shadows are soft;
They play with the forest sunshine
Green and brown mottled.

Rooster crows proudly;
Sun answers with warm kisses;
Easy work for both.

In the shale: green leaves;
They push out to greet the sun.
White moth flickers by.

Brown leaves are shining;
Sun's rays splash the forest floor.
A chain saw buzzes.

Water is hollow;
Today the stream drinks itself
And burps happily.

Saturday, April 09, 2005

The woods are dappled;
Sunlight splashes on brown leaves;
Faint breeze stirs the air.

Friday, April 08, 2005

The shadows are stark;
Web like tree limbs frame the sky.
Birds call from all sides.

The fat crow swaggers;
He walks on a sunny patch
Sees me and takes off.

At the branches' tips
Small bumped buds start to emerge.
They blink green at Spring.

Tiny white flowers:
A cluster on the brown leaves.
There's a butterfly.

Sun filters through green;
The young pine needles glisten.
The woods are silent

The two old dogs rest;
Side by side they soak the sun.
They won't be disturbed.

Thursday, April 07, 2005

Warm scented dusk breeze;
Rain full sky is darkening;
Hear the peeper frogs.

Still a patch of snow;
The air is warm and scented.
The sun is hidden.

Soon the rain will fall;
The sky is pregnant and gray.
The warm air is still.

The pink shuttered house;
In windows old lace doilies.
Faded fairyland.

A wrecked "For Sale" sign
Sits on a filthy snow mound.
Both on their way out.

Small blotch on the road;
The body still and crimson.
The first dead red eft.

Small yellow splashes;
They peek from under dead leaves.
First dandelions.

Ahead something waves;
I perk up. Who could it be?
Oh, it's just that flag.

The stream flows gently;
Birds call in the hollow air.
Woodpecker hammers.

Monday, April 04, 2005

Sun breaks through the clouds;
The wind echoes in my ears.
Above a hawk glides.

The sun disappears;
A chilly grayness descends.
The loud stream rushes.

Rustle of the wind;
Fir trees bend and sway gently.
Distant stream rushes.

The wind is rushing;
The lazy brook winds slowly;
The crows keep calling

Small cross in the woods;
It stands on a pile of stones.
What lies beneath it?

The sun hides again;
On the streams are flat mirrors;
Snow patches are dim.

Three birds on a branch;
They sit still against the sky.
Then poof! Off they fly.

Gray clouds migrating;
They leave behind a blue sky.
Hawk sails on the wind.

Friday, April 01, 2005

Mist is all around
Touching tree tops and mountains.
In grayness birds sing.

The woods are silent;
Not a breeze stirs the branches.
Crow caws far away.

The mist is lifting;
Ahead the road is sunny.
Then it's gray again.

There's snow down the glen;
The thick bare trees keep the shade.
Soon that, too, will pass.

Sun splashes the woods;
Brown leaves shimmer and glisten.
Sharp tree shadows fall.

Green ferns are peeking;
They hang over the stream bed
Thirsty for water.

Thursday, March 31, 2005

Tweet tweet (pause) tweet tweet;
A sweet breeze brushes my face;
A house is sun splashed.

Three dead trees stand tall;
Sun lights them like the others.
But they have no buds.

By the rushing stream
A rowboat lies on its side.
Its turn will come soon.

Glitter from mailbox:
Christmas ball turns in the sun.
Whisper of winter.

Beer bottles in woods:
Green glass glows in the sunlight.
Discarded jewels.

Blinding light flows down;
Narrow stream catches the sun.
It tinkles lightly.

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

Red barn is brighter;
Trees stand crisp against the sky.
Earth is in the air.

Gentle roar around;
The sound of rushing water.
Spring streams spring swiftly.

"Quick. quick" the bird shouts;
The woods are still full of snow.
But Spring's puddles spread.

The stream flows softly;
It twinkles in the sunlight.
Patterns on the rocks.

The rusty muffler
Lies uncovered in the woods.
Brown as the moist ground..

Beneath: rushing stream;
Above: wild geese are honking;
In the middle: me.

Bird on a phone line
Sits still against the blue sky
Then swoops to the ground.

Saturday, March 26, 2005

Plane in the blue sky
Glides smoothly and silently
Its sound far behind.

Squirrel runs in the snow;
Sun drunk it comes right to me;
Then, freaked, runs away.

The shadows are sharp:
Tree trunks projected on snow.
Clarity today!

Woodpecker drums hard
Unseen among the bare trees.
Other birds twitter.

Dead tree limbs reach out;
The bare branches wait for naught.
For them, no season.

Thursday, March 24, 2005

It has snowed again;
The gray black sky is moving;
No tracks in the field.

Thick layer of snow;
Still the black stream twists and turns;
Still the birds twitter.

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Tracks cross the snow field;
Brown earth moves in at the edge.
The advance of Spring.

Woman and dog jog;
Sun is gentle this morning;
The birds soar and dive.

Sun fills the tree tops.
Lower down the shadows play.
Gradations of light.

Woodpecker on tree:
He peeks around to check on me,
Then peck pecks away.

The steep road curves down;
It slides, twists, snakes, glides and rolls.
How does it stay still?

Faint breeze and bird chirp;
Far away echo of crows.
A distant plane roars.

Monday, March 21, 2005

Trees are frosted now;
A misty snow slants downward;
Quick! Before Spring comes.

The woods are white and still;
The bare branches etched with snow;
A bird calls somewhere.

A spectral whiteness
As misty snow coats the trees.
It patters: tick tick.

Two fir trees stand tall
Beneath them stone wall and earth.
There no snow will fall.

Like ghosts, trees appear;
Snow is turning into fog.
Is this just a dream?

Sunday, March 20, 2005

Crows skim the snow field.
One lands and tiptoes across.
Fleeting black on white

Is it snow or rain?
Birds chatter in confusion.
The white wetness falls.

Snow falls in silence;
A white mist across the road.
Two planes hum above.

Two doves on a branch
Watching the falling snow
They sit, turn and cluck.

Bumps in the branches;
Forsythia buds peek through;
Snow mist gently falls.

The woods are hushed white;
Veiled lines of snow fall softly.
The first day of Spring.

Saturday, March 19, 2005

Sun sparkles the stream
Twisting deep into the woods;
Snow is retreating.

Moon shines through bushes;
Bare branches against the sky.
Above, a goose cries.

Friday, March 18, 2005

Crows caw to music;
Young mother opens barn door;
Spring tapping its feet.

Green moss covered rocks;
The stream sparkles around them;
Snow is receding.

Old dog in the sun
Lies, pants and blinks happily.
Is winter over?

The empty red swing
Suspended above the snow
Patiently waiting.

Pickup truck passes;
A strong blast of tobacco.
Cigarette on wheels.

Thursday, March 17, 2005

All the signs are Spring:
The sun, the birds, the earth's smell.
Just the snow remains.

Past the open field
The wind blows across the snow
And tickles my ear.

From the trees or sky
A bird calls, far, far away.
No one answers it.

Shelf fungus on tree
As black as the snow is white.
Last Spring it was beige.

Green and further gray
Rolling mountains straight ahead.
There lies my homeland.

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

Groping tree branches
Bare against the cold blue sky;
I stalk my shadow.

Brown leaves still hanging;
Beneath them the snow is gray.
What season is this?

A puddle of ice
Glistens brightly in the sun.
Jewel in the dirt.

Fir tree in the snow;
Green amidst all of the white.
Moment of glory!

Wedged in a tree crotch:
Old frozen telephone book.
Who's going to call?

Monday, March 14, 2005

Squirrels glide on the snow,
Zigging and zagging they race
And make not a sound.

The cold wind blows by;
It curls hollow in my ear.
Then it passes on.

Shadow dappled road;
Black crow flies through the blue sky.
The sun warms my face.

Sunday, March 13, 2005

My shadow appears;
A lone snow flake drops on it.
Then, poof! Both are gone.

White flakes float sparsely;
They touch the ground and are gone.
Just where do they go?

The road is quiet--
Snow, trees, gray sky-- all silent
Save my chattered thoughts.

Friday, March 11, 2005


For the past five years I have walked the same 2.2 miles down Yerry Hill Road and back again. Being notoriously unobservant, I decided to use this walk as an opportunity to see with new eyes each time.

The ancient Japanese poetic form of haiku forces the writer to focus absolutely and completely on the moment. The traditional syllabic form consists of five syllables in the first line, seven in the second and five again in the third. Traditionally, the haiku have been connected with the seasons. Since I have made my walk in all seasons, the haiku reflect the different times of year.

Today, I surpassed three hundred haiku. No one has seen these but my computer. I thought it would be fun to share. Here are a few from the last week. More will follow.

On my right the wind;
Then it blows across the road.
A tree creaks loudly.

All is soft and white;
Misty snow frosts road and tree.
I walk in a dream.

Footprints in the snow;
They pass me the other way.
There is no one there.

Suddenly the sun;
The trees, the snow, my spirits
All lift up brightly.