sun slants over snow
dyed vanilla by the light
of mid afternoon
Twenty-two Degrees and Windy Haiku
sun slants over snow
dyed vanilla by the light
of mid afternoon
sun slants over snow
dyed vanilla by the light
of mid afternoon
deep snow on the trail
spreads the ground under dark bark
winter. silence. here.
PL5 written on the wrapped-green house,
half-built, half-lot,
down from the street from Boston’s last
working
farm
“Please,” utters the spirit, tight-drawn and fragile
as you motor from one encounter to the next.
January looms in the blue-and-white sky,
chills your fingers as you dig gloves from pockets
Unaccustomed to their new location,
all your possessions cry for mercy, comfort,
gratitude
time a gratuity
and your check so small,
it won’t cover the bills
boardwalk through the marsh
our feet disturb the thin snow
moss and lichen bloom