Miscellaneous Haiku

Grabbing at the moon

pruned fingers, wrinkled palms, hands

coming up empty

The branches’ blankets

are as pure as driven snow

beneath my footprints

This morning the world

was made again - golden light

sets fire to the grass

Spider, you may stay

if you keep to your corner

and I keep to mine

Morning birds weaving

an ephemeral tapestry

wild and inviting