March 17, 2026

milestone birthday 
I give my Bitmoji
bushier eyebrows


With today's post, I will have been writing and sometimes posting at least one haiku I can stand to share every day for THIRTEEN YEARS. (!)


I would therefore like to invite y'all to join me in celebrating the art of haiku.

Here are some ways that you might decide to join in the fun. (Put whatever you decide to share either here in the comments or over on Blue Sky, where I am, of course @butwaitI will be working today, but should be able to check back in here tonight.)
  • Poke around in the archives, find a favorite, and share it! Bonus points if you tell me why you like it. (But sometimes it's hard to say why, so no pressure.)
  • Find a photo that you think pairs well with one of my haiku, and either tell me about it or create a haiga (image + haiku, e.g. this one)!
  • Pick a date that is meaningful to you - just the date, not the year - and let me share a haiku I wrote on that date. Bonus points - again, no pressure! - if you tell me why the date is significant to you.
  • Send me a word that you'd like to see me try to incorporate into a haiku (no promises!)
  • Tell me about a moment that seemed "haiku-worthy" to you, but that you haven't quite managed to capture in the way you were hoping to
  • Share a haiku of your own! (And don't worry too much about the whole 5-7-5 thing.)
  • Tell me about your haiku reading practice! Where / when / how do you read haiku? Who writes haiku that you enjoy?
  • Got any other ideas? In the past I've had a few friends write a haiku in response to one of mine, which has been lovely and thrilling.

Thank you for considering dedicating some of your time and energy to helping me celebrate this small thing amidst everything big and scary that's going on right now.

January 24, 2026

 (Fear not, I didn't stop writing haiku, I'm just wayyyy behind in posting them here. Stay tuned, and go ahead and poke around in the back catalog in the meantime!)

September 01, 2025

we permit ourselves
the gift of imagining
a world after him



August 31, 2025

tree swallows swooping
out and back over the field
just because they can


August 30, 2025

some day he'll be gone —
what can we work to build now
that should exist then?



August 29, 2025

belted kingfisher
waiting patiently beside the lake
until we find him



August 28, 2025

slanted evening sun
picking up the purple seeds
at the tops of sawgrass



August 27, 2025

coastal flooding —
hurricane season 
reminds us who's boss



August 26, 2025

 yellow flicker —
the day squeaks open
on a rusty hinge