butwait.blogspot.com || At least one haiku I am comfortable sharing. Every day.
just two days in —the jasmine is alreadyclimbing our trellis
we compare noteson where we last saw the fox —learning the territory
backyard sunshinethe delicious smell of dirt —our thoughts turn inward
how the world openswild in the gaps and edgesas we look away
baby birds their feathers not yet grown in —Robb Elementary
fledgling sparrows —having to think about itbefore taking flight
a call unansweredthe feeling of hope fading —wrong kind of quiet
tucked into burrowswhere their mothers left them —this year's rabbits
already dreamingof turning to face the light —sunflower seedling
heat wave in mid-May —we watch a sparrow hopfrom shadow to shade
fog settling in —we row towards our memory of the bridge
(the shift fromavoiding puddlesto stomping in them)
wanting to believetests that come back negative —Nana's checkup
summer sweetnessmeasured in strawberries —I stain my fingers
rainbows turningeveryone young again —we tumble outside
smaller, even,than I remember —euphorbia petals
spring just out of reach —iris petals visible but not yet open
trying to learn howto tell the foxes apart —fleeting morning glimpse
two front yard bunniesstopping in mid chase to bravea quick peek at us
the last of the lightslipping away no matterhow hard the trees try
embers drifting upalong with campfire songs —shadows jumping, too
right down the middle —a wobbly new bike rider,mom running behind
all the newswe can't believecoming true anyway
threading a paththrough all the puddles —rainy spring Saturday
last summer's shadeblooming in our memoryas these buds unfurl
turn over some soilto make room for new seeds —say what you hope for
in and out of focus —a sliver of moonlightdown for a skinny dip
pink petalsin little wind-swept piles —now I notice them
sleep-ending thunderat the darkest time of night —we turn on a light
rainy spring night —we find another wayto fit together