perfectly matched
like wedding shoes to gown —
this fog, that sky

a fresh coat of snow,
stories of my snoring —
morning surprises

learning to rhumba —
the trick of the twirl is knowing
she'll come back

hear the melody,
his piano teacher says —
he begins again

we say to each other
like the prayer that it is —
first day of spring

spring dawn —
birds revved up
like cars at a light


(Cross-posted at Four Seasons Haiku: Spring)

sharp edged
layer of cold
right at my ankles

rain on the roof

at the end of the storm —

keeping its own time

exhausted —
remembering the time
I got rolled by a wave