forsythia —

too early to be out

too late to go back

at day’s end

still talking about

this morning’s birds

honoring blisters

as well as my shoes and feet —

walking with Buddha

drowsy afternoon

flowers long since gone to seed

our heads nodding too

longing to ask her

I ask the fiddleheads for

tips on how it’s done

warm spell —

we offer to carry in

our neighbor’s groceries

garden playing dead —

the patience spring requires

not in my nature

two bucks bedded down

in piles of last year’s leaves —

all eyes and antlers

falling snow —

even the woodpecker’s day

fills up with quiet

we tell our story

to remember more of it —

vines before flowers

mid-February —

the cherry tree’s blossoms

still waiting backstage

first truly warm day —

big sister counting

the baby’s toes

(HT @javonism)

five a.m. blackbird —

the song of my loneliness

flying away

(HT @salgreenway)

blades of grass

freezing in the wind —

I lose your number

Valentine’s Day —

sunlight returning to

his walk home from school

mid-winter phone call —

the way the space between us

melts away

(for KLS)

wrapping myself

in songs from last night’s concert —

where is she tonight?

February journey —

as the temperature drops

we warn each other

mountain snow, melting —

the clean feeling that comes

alongside your laugh

(for CD)

snow moon —

all trace of my passing

wiped out by the wind

our front window

a mirror so the blue jay

can threaten himself

happy to be wrong —

the moon I thought was full

bigger still tonight!

even half asleep

we know the other is there —

the moon behind clouds

hold the door open —

over crushed and frozen ground

I’ll come back to you

that gap in the hedge

still beckoning explorers —

the old neighborhood

your hand

raised in greeting —

my heart still jumps up

squirrels giving chase —

we argue about

who called who first


(This is pure poetic license, by the way. Everyone knows she called me first.)

traveling home

in the mid-winter dark

as frost makes its plans

first light —

the haiku I wrote

better in my dream