butwait.blogspot.com || At least one haiku I am comfortable sharing. Every day.
tornado watch —we talk over the winduntil we can’t
we lay corn stalks downover the mud and walk on —frost in the shadows
saturated flashsimultaneous startle —the bluebird’s piercing blue
our numbered deadsitting here on my chest —the moon keeps rowing
the name of this landbefore my people stole it —Lenapehoking
more light at nightalthough the days grow darker —waxing gibbous moon
Asia Fostergone from this earth at 22 —I cannot get warm
where our yards meet nowjust a huge wheel of a stumpand so much more sun
wind stirs the woodsmoke as the dark clouds thicken —what are we making?
the fox looks back andI feel my place in the worldfold in on itself
November morning —we watch the wind undoall that leaf raking
dwindling crescent —night-blooming nicotianaopen for one last drink
down amidst the leavesrabbits reminding each otherfrost will come again
seven crows regrouparound the neighbor’s chimney —we’re all seeking warmth
each day shorterthan the one before —I race the sun home
home all day —I share my water bottlewith the windowsill plant
tangle of uprooted vinesyellowing grass underneath —no clocks to turn back
nicotiana —white flowers even brighteras the sun slips down
bare branches at last —in between bouts of rakingwe touch wood for luck
cold night airand the scent of pine needles —our gloved hands touch
the sound of acornsfalling into the leaves belowas the fog burns off
all the grandfatherschristened by grandbabieswho could say Pop-Pop
at the forest’s edgea flock of wild turkeystrading escape tips
Northern harrierbanking hard to double backover our gasps
November morning —wide open blue sky a prizeafter all that fog
the sound of sirensbefore we smell the smoke —too-early dusk
trees standing aroundto watch me run the table —I line up the moon
laptop cooling fansputting in for overtime —Election Night
the way the sunlightfinds its way through the trees —November dawn
a good soaking rainand a story worth telling —I come home to you