Late Fall Haiku
11 poems from late fall, 2024
Bough of red leaves shelters floating mosquitoes, a chair, and this poet.
Tender filaments of web traced from grass to grass revealed in full sun.
Nuthatch, upside down, sparrows, many, cardinal, female—small fawn dog.
As this November wind, sadness gusts and blusters and in it I sit.
Cider gold sunset spills across dove and winter white—not yet, not yet.
Hours of silent cloud breaks now—migrating sandhill’s rich embroidery.
With the falling sun, leaf after leaf journeys down— singular, unique.
Breath of moon beyond network trees— home from work.
Clarity at last. Leafless branches decorate the sky—and their birds!
Not a single tree without it’s flaw—each scar equal in sunset’s warm light.
Teddy bear— love circling back to its source.