seasons

seasons of haiku
yearlong task, little better
illumination

legs pound down a road 
winding tunnel, winter trees
draw breath in cold air

icy running brook 
moss sparkles under water
january sun

sunspots in the air 
many creatures, many minds
dance and sing the earth

bare distant drumlin 
rime on wet dirt, light brown grass
sledding tracks are gone

parrying eyes pass 
in speeding cars side by side
parallel window

maple squirrel runs 
patches of snow melt on leaves
march shadows circle

march lawn asunder 
water, transparent puddles
mirror clouds and wind

sitting in the sun 
two cords green wood in a pile
homemade gumbo lunch

stacking cords of wood 
raking wet leaves into piles
everybody grunt

fire in the wood stove 
people sprawl on old cushions
pup sleeps on his back

trees clash and rattle  
branches grapple and parry
april gust of wind

ants on the table 
baklava and black coffee
early morning sun

april dog snoozes 
stretched out in the sun, above
flower bulbs at work

roadside invasion 
roots of iron, will of steel
honeysuckle bloom

quadratic wordplay
fencing with thoughts from the past
disappears with age

beacon in the door 
no subtle light, my son asks
a direct question

zeus is in the hood 
throwing thunderbolts at trees
pelting rain on us

natural language 
tree frogs singing sweet july
hot air has night sounds

dry cut stubble grass 
scattered cubes, brown on hillside
hay bales in the sun

gentle shades confuse 
fall releasing summer light
wind leaving the ground

trouble gains hold, in 
fits it starts, and openness
can't find permanence

soon too cold for life 
these insects will not hover
darting in the sun

spiral dancing motes 
the last days of october
only lightly swarm

loud chop, maul splits wood 
blue november sky awaits
brightly, crack of dawn

warm november air 
caribbean gust and squall
ten more mosquitos

ducking fog across 
cold wet ground, dog lopes sniffing
invisible things

old white dog wolfs down 
squirrely oblong lozenge
curls up with less pain

petit dejeuner 
un reve de matin perdu
les bananes ont fui

this clay poetry 
recorded in a moment
zen wheel, stone turning

birds sing in a tree 
friends chattering on the phone
easy talk is cheap

free range emotion 
herds swirl lost between tall trees
coming home to rest

only once exists 
a nemesis that keeps on
coming back for more

how many tons of 
carbon for a one carat
diamond? expensive!

blues haiku guitar 
band alive and living beat
notes lead play in time