December 31, 2015

midnight fireworks
we find ourselves back
at the beginning

December 30, 2015

back from our trip
the birds here at home
sounding new again

December 29, 2015

fiftieth birthday
I feel the gravel slide
under my wheels

December 28, 2015

a queztal’s cry
sets us all to looking
who will see her first?

December 27, 2015

just after sunset
between the birds and the frogs
a patch of silence

December 26, 2015

we try again
to imagine these mountains
before roads

December 25, 2015

Costa Rican Christmas
we pause to let a crab
cross the road

December 24, 2015

a trail in the sand
where a child dragged her towel
for emphasis

December 23, 2015

sorry, snail!
now I see you are still
using that shell

December 22, 2015

approaching footsteps
my heart still jumps up
at the thought of you

December 21, 2015

we fill the long night
with our questions and stories
mid-winter Solstice

(This will be my last haiku here for a little bit... but not because I'm not writing! Just taking a step away from the digital life as the year turns over. Please consider taking this opportunity to poke around in the archives... you could even leave me a - *gasp* - comment!)

December 20, 2015

on the world’s exhaust
December lilac buds

December 19, 2015

its worth reflected
only in his children’s eyes
grandfather’s old chair

December 18, 2015

three pigeons
arguing over their places
under the bridge

December 17, 2015

happier still
when a second voice joins in
early morning song

December 16, 2015

she asks again
where it is we’re going
early Alzheimer’s

December 15, 2015

you lift your eyes
to follow the hawk in flight
I watch you instead

December 14, 2015

our clothes clinging
as we come in from the fog
how will it taste?

December 13, 2015

keys on the counter
as we pull the locked door shut
geese fly on ahead

December 12, 2015

one hawk watching for movement
on the edge of flight

December 11, 2015

left on the platform
as he steps aboard
brakes releasing

December 10, 2015

my apology
lodged to the left of your heart
another near miss

December 09, 2015

our to-do list
with being lazy together
right up at the top

December 08, 2015

to feel the sun on my face
as the days grow short

December 06, 2015

holiday baking
I think of my grandmother
standing at the sink

December 05, 2015

blade by blade
our lawn going to frost
while we sleep

the azalea leaves give up,
turning gold at last

December 04, 2015

the day’s last sunlight
poured out over the lake  
scarcity. abundance.

December 03, 2015

early December
a groomed field of winter wheat
where the corn once stood

December 02, 2015

looking away
how my father taught me
to see the stars

December 01, 2015

holiday baking
but nowhere for me to send
your biscotti now

November 30, 2015

November 29, 2015

first real frost
waiting for my windows to
let me see again

November 28, 2015

scanning the sky
for the star that will release
this wish I’m holding

November 27, 2015

old enough now
I don’t need the recipe
apple pie season

November 26, 2015

two decades on
the wonder of you
still singing in me

November 25, 2015

November 24, 2015

we wake to the sound
of water lapping the hull
at anchor, at sea

November 23, 2015

when your boy asks
if you wanted a girl
delay of bedtime

November 22, 2015

for a moment
as the wind shuffles the clouds
just a few stars

November 21, 2015

he’s holding
an empty bird’s nest

November 20, 2015

there was one gold leaf
this morning, on the drive in
that headed back up

November 19, 2015

my fingers trailing
over the side as you row

November 18, 2015

Elizabeth Bishop’s fish
still trailing old weights

November 17, 2015

delayed migration
we and the birds wondering
did we wait too long?

November 16, 2015

smoke clinging to this
landscape of burning leaf piles
what have we wrought?

November 15, 2015

November 14, 2015

old life in boxes
when has the waning crescent
been this thin and sharp?

November 13, 2015

first frost
finally silencing
the mosquito’s whine

November 12, 2015

looking everywhere
for storm windows and finding
paper wasps instead

spring sun
the red faces of those
caught unprepared

November 11, 2015

every fallen stick
seems crooked as I look
for a straight one

November 10, 2015

one rainstorm later
and all I can think is how
I want the leaves back

November 09, 2015

all work forgotten
as the day’s first sunlight
bounces off the lake

November 08, 2015

beneath the willow
was a space I claimed as mine
until I met you

November 07, 2015

before wind and rakes
leaves still where they dropped
in bright circles

November 06, 2015

late night clouds
the stars move slowly away
from where we left them

November 05, 2015

all along the road
slowly ground down to flour
this year’s acorns

November 04, 2015

wondering why
we can’t just leave him alone
teenager’s lament

November 03, 2015

this evening's windfall —
as the temperature drops

you reach for my hand

November 02, 2015

November 01, 2015

October 31, 2015

October 30, 2015

October 29, 2015

heading to bed
I think of the skunks
starting their day