Glorious Chaos

 

No snow flake on ground;
Where is this Northeaster storm?
Two blue jays play tag.

 

Pumpkin on table
With magazines, cups and spoon--
Glorious chaos. 

Wreckage on my lawn--
Giant maple is undone
By force of the wind.

 

Silvery Pampas
Has been transformed into hay
In a season's flash.

 

 Only faint ripples
Float in the clear mirrored stream;
Brighter than the sky.

Trembling in the tree
An ancient spider web waits--
Without a spider.

Suspended in air,
Two branches hang upside down--
Wooden acrobatics.

Abandoned bungi
Lies in the road with one hook.
How useless is that?

Like a Familiar Stranger

Not even freezing,
But the sky is full of snow;
Old plants shake gently.

Where is the sunlight
On this gray and dreary day?
Must be in my heart.

Standing on hay stack
The geese survey the gray sky.
Will it snow or not?

 

Dark against the gray
Silhouette of crow calls out;
Then slowly flaps off.

 

A leaning dead branch
Held up by the naked bush.
(Small consolation).

 

Caught in the pine trees
The dead leaves have hung for weeks;
(Will they last winter?)

Leaves fly to the ground;
Electric wire shakes dizzily;
Wind testing its lungs.

Pale globe in the sky
Like a familiar stranger.
(It's the hiding sun).

Translucent Morning

 

Sun on window sill
Lighting up the quartz crystals,
Trumpets a new day.

 

Dizzy kind of day,
But the trees still seem solid
As they wave gently.

 

Stopping to chit chat
I forget to write haiku.
Well, here's another.

 

Light translucent leaves
Gather in the bright sunshine
And make it solid.

Shouts and a chain saw
Cut through the sunny morning.
They're shaving my trees.

 Tree with two crutches
Mirrors old lady indoors.

(I think she's older).

Translucent morning--
Leaves crave to hold the sunshine
Even if they're dead.

 

Women, dogs, shadows
Intermingle on the road
Quietly, softly.

 

 

Almost a Shadow

 

Gray pre election;
Even the sky has turned cold;
Suspended in time.

 

Pumpkin on table,
Five days after Halloween,
Simply can't tell time.

 

Dagger in the tree
Hangs and waits for a strong wind
To send it plunging.

 

Burning wood's spice smell
Mixes with the sweet cut grass;
Goose raises his head.

 

Pale naked whiteness
Of a tree torn by the wind,
Showing its innards.

 

Tree triceretops
Leans lazily on the branch
Waiting for the wind.

Stump is dissolving
Into a conference of parts
Meeting solemnly.

Almost a shadow--
Black leaf against beige background  

Trembles in the breeze.

 

Or Gray Tympani

It is Halloween;
Yesterday's storm has passed us;
The sky is still gray.



Deafening silence;
Then, the buzzing of a fly,
And a swishing car.





Strewn across my stream--
A piece of the ancient tree,
Dead for decades now.

 
Thick the gray clouds now;
Broken trees along the road;
Swift, the stream rushes.



Most trees are bare now;
Wind has stripped away their leaves.
Crow calls in gray sky


 

Old brown rotting tree
Crumbling into the ground;
Returns to the earth.



A swirling of wires
Lying so innocently;
Are they live or dead?




Gun shots in the woods
Thud out like fire crackers
Or gray tympani.