First Haibun

I'm awake late this morning as usual, and I open the blinds to converse with the sun. A sliding glass door keeps me in, but the sunlit view floods into my dining room like an old friend in no need of an invitation. Delighted with the company, I stand and enjoy my good fortune. My full coffee mug warms me, but my bones ache at the sight of the cold beauty in front of me. Everything is just where it was yesterday morning, but today's visitor is unlike any other.

surrounded by wood
frozen and snow-capped in line
nails in a bare deck

Haiku in my Journal

climbing trees with friends
playing king of the forest
young poison ivy

hurry up!
white clouds race across
the blue sky

the red leaf defies
the inevitable fall
clinging to life

loud and indignant
the crow protests my presence
as if I can't hear

Sweet Song

how sweet should he sing?
what lyrics would fill his tune?
little hummingbird

Coo -- Coo

lonely song
of the waning day
mourning dove

the peering

snow glows all quiet
like the peering of a deer
in the darkish night

Nature Poetry Worth Remembering

The bright moon lights the path
through the gray woods
From the unlit depths of the hollow
comes the soft sound of broken water
A faint brightness
or is it a low cloud
within the eastern sky
The earth is hushed

Harlan Hubbard
from his journal entry for February 2, 1953

The View Through My Railing

snow stacked up neatly
icicles hung in a row
Winter brings order

On My Deck

ice is all abloom
on dead chrysanthemum stalks
Winter is reborn

About 7:59 AM