Haiku-A-Day

clear blue sky

above, and your head dozing

on my shoulder

through the mists, across

the water, the islands sit, a scribble

on the horizon

great white orb in the

bright blue sky, rising over terraced,

palm-topped hills

the breeze rustles

through the pine boughs bathed in

silver-blue moonlight

gazing up:

a maelstrom of grey flecks

on a white background

blanket-wrapped, we

sit side-by-side — snow builds up

on the window sill

a baby with

tissue paper:  pure, unrefined

contentment

seated at the big

table, surrounded by laughter

and sugar cookies

the trees groan in the

wind, branches encapsulated

in frozen time

black ice underfoot –

treading gingerly

up the driveway

flying east to

Chicago — shortest day

of the year

electric candles

burn between wire/plastic branches,

welcoming the sun

I chuckle warmly

as someone’s dog frolics

in the white powder

snowflakes contine

to fall in time with recorded

piano flurries

a scraping snowplow

shatters the snow-damp

silence

wrapped up tight,

as the world outside

turns white and grey

hunched against the

cold, and old, red hawk eyes

the white for movement

an icy damp chill

steals through the cracks in the

sliding glass door

overstuffed recliner,

book in hand — cold radiates

from frosted windows

rain patters on the

rooftop — hard to keep my

eyes open

standing under a

streetlight, red leaves flare

beneath the black sky

i drift off

to the gentle sound of

your breath next to me

finger tapping and

pen scratching:  two word weavers

creating worlds by hand

scent of chicken and

spices wafts from the kitchen –

smells like home

temperature drops ten

degrees — above, black cloud banks

crest the mountain tops

walking home, the air

is thick with smells of

respite, home, and beans

late afternoon:

a cold, yellow mist rises

from the sands

under the cloudless

blue sky — thundercrash

and a salty spray