March 31, 2014

March 30, 2014

the birds crowd their songs
into the all-day rain’s
one break


March 29, 2014

rain on the new roof —
I think of the birds at night
heads under their wings


March 28, 2014

March 27, 2014

March 26, 2014

the wind today —
so strong I almost gave in
to a trust fall


March 25, 2014

fully fluffed
and twice their usual size —
cold-snapped chickadees


March 24, 2014

one more trip around
just in case anything’s changed —
our pond koi


March 23, 2014

dogs out on their walks
looking like they’re in cahoots
with spring


March 22, 2014

first day of spring —
all anyone talks about
is the coming snow


March 21, 2014

trying something new —
digging in the cabinet
for the cardamom


March 20, 2014

March 19, 2014

March 18, 2014

road ends in swamp —
the difference between
our map and the world


March 17, 2014

full moon —
I plan to tell the sand crabs
all about it



One year ago tonight, I wrote a haiku and posted it here. "I should do this every night," I thought. And then, "I wonder if I could." Tonight's haiku is the 365th since then.

Wonder if I can keep going...

March 16, 2014

the turtle’s leg
as it tries to flip over —
so long, suddenly!


March 15, 2014

wheeling vultures,
retirees at the pool —
we all look lively


March 14, 2014

snowdrops at last —
the sound of relief
in my neighbor’s voice


March 13, 2014

after the concert —
hearing music once again
in the gusting wind


March 12, 2014

March 11, 2014

March 10, 2014

daylight saving time —
the parrot can’t figure out
why I’m awake


March 09, 2014

in seeming stillness,
my feet swept out from under —
her cancer returns


March 08, 2014

startled by the stars
as they align in new ways —
she calls me first


March 07, 2014

snow in retreat —
an old line of poetry
comes back, unbidden


March 06, 2014

March 05, 2014

March 04, 2014

an unfledged robin
cupped in my shaky hands —
two hammering hearts


March 03, 2014

the sweet moment
of “give” when the orange
is truly ready


March 02, 2014

March 01, 2014