butwait.blogspot.com || At least one haiku I am comfortable sharing. Every day.
no snow yet this year —the cold moon looks for a placeto reshare her light
"colonial charm"racist variation on "nothing to see here"
at last the echoof our expressions in his —our boy sounds like ours
I was in a rushbut I've never been ableto remember why
when I was first bornmy father worried I might be breakable
Boxing Day dinner —plates full of leftovers andreheated stories
wondering againif the last snow storm we sawwas the last we'll see
Santa hat —collecting smiles from strangersdespite the chaos
quiet in the house —just the tick of pine needlesfalling off the tree
waiting in the treesfor us to break up the ice —juncos at first light
Solstice starlight —the long line to summerunrolling before us
spray-painted pine cones —we keep the old ornamentsand all their stories
another cold night —I listen for the sound ice makes as it starts
after the stormsall roads end in water —we find a new way
no sign of the starsas the all-night rain begins —finches huddling up
snowflake lightsbetween our upstairs windows —now we're ready!
hungry for the coldfor the black and bare branches —more space for dreaming
HT @heathr
https://twitter.com/heathr/status/173576221901787172
shooting starsbeneath a fingernail moon —we gasp in unison
even through socks —the pine needle invasionhas begun
sunset giving wayto a black sky with a holefor a new moon
mailbox thief —I measure out the sugarto re-bake my gift
rainy Saturday —another forgotten doorin the Advent calendar
wearing a bowtieto meet his grandmother —baby's first funeral
Solstice approaching —a flurry of list-makingin pencil, in pen
long before the cloudsstacked up like a traffic jamthere was this fire
the darker the daysthe brighter the stars, it seems —even as they fall
no conscious choice —the radio station in my headswitches to Christmas
December half moon —the times I almost came outbut then reversed course
holiday baking —I fail again atsleeping in
the famous iciclemy mother let me bringfor show and tell
hand over handwe pull the bucket up —cool water and stars