Midwinter Haiku
20 poems from midwinter, 2022
Every single feather important—chickens puffed against the cold.
Snow falling, we walk to the neighbor's to gather misdelivered mail.
My coworkers trot across my forehead's gentle arc—lying in bed.
The fawn-colored dog lies down in a golden square of winter sunlight.
The simmering pot of beef and barley soup steams gently, reducing.
The wet salad spinner hides a ladybug slaking its mid-winter thirst.
Bedtime—tucking in I contemplate tomorrow's meetings anxiously.
Brushing past it, sound of spring showers—Christmas tree in January.
The anxious dog sleeps anxiously, ears anxiously up, four legs—pressed springs.
Below are many attempts at capturing the same idea. I usually stick with the 5-7-5 structure for haiku, but occasionally I foray into 3-5-3.
--- Negative twelve, this winter morning—dog sniffing deer tracks in the snow. - The dog dips its nose into the holes a deer punched through the snow last night. - Dog sniffing deer tracks cut into winter snow. - The world is solid—negative twelve degrees.
Warm coffee— a light snowfall dusts the lilac. - Light snow falls, a few flakes clinging to the old lilac.
Morning thoughts— twisting trails between snowy fields. - Morning thoughts unwind— long and twisting trails between wide snowy meadows.
These open fields, once oak barrens, now straight edged, cut up with tractor ruts. - These fields, harrowed square, mechanically cleared—oak barrens shorn to the edges.
Clinging to the tip of a tropical houseplant— a cold ladybug.