What a racket! Red squirrel in the downspout's tip outside my window.
Today, sixty two spring sunrises have gleamed for she who gave me hands.
Below is a tanka—a poem structure similar to haiku that ends with two seven syllable lines. This structure has often felt to me like the Japanese/haiku version of the sonnet.
--- On a frosted branch perched in sunlight, a songbird warms—my soul outside this house of electronics and booze—window pressed, I yearn.
Iced-over man-made wetland, two geese on a mound of reeds— driving by at dusk.
All this melting makes the road a tray of water saucers—we drive slow.
In the freezing hoop seedlings freshly planted—paused waiting for warm nights.
The great freeze is done and I have come tumbling out— allergies and plans.