• Sunrise Like Sunset
    Caught in a Mirror, Between
    Clear Days, Clearer Nights
    , , ,
  • Sunrise Washes Up
    Against the Tree Line, Splashing
    Orange and Umber
    , ,
  • Today Ragged Clouds
    Rushed by Like Time Passing or
    Distances Traveled.

    In Their Flat Grey Light
    I Felt Memories Stir and
    Tumble, but Slower

    And Tonight I Cooked
    A Dish We Shared When There Was
    No Time or Distance

    , , , ,
  • Well Before Sunrise
    Two Great Horned Owls Start the Day
    In Call and Response
    , , ,
  • We talked of Losing
    And of Keeping, Endurance
    And No Conclusions

    Talked of Your Freckles,
    Of Food, And Other Delights
    Real or Just Desired

    It Had Been Awhile
    But Still We Talked Easily
    Across All The Gaps

    , , ,
  • Five A.M. Baking,
    Bread and Rolls, Like my Father
    When I Was a Boy

    The House is Asleep,
    Now as Then, The Dreams Scented
    With Warm Cinnamon

    The Kitchen is Ruled
    By Wooden Spoons and Wire Wisks
    And Long Memory

    , , , , , , ,
  • At the End of That
    Long, Softly Lit Hallway, A
    Tall Westward Window

    Dawn, Painted Across
    The Skies and Trees and Fields
    In Blues and Coral

    Our Worlds, Separate
    Yet Together, Start Again
    And I Breathe Deeply

    , , , , ,
  • Frequently Surprised,
    Still, By Joy, By Sadness or just
    By Circumstances
    ,
  • Sunrise, or Perhaps
    Just a Dream of It on This
    Grey and Muddled Night
    , , , ,
  • Wind Battered Clouds Rush
    Across Moonless Night Blued Skies
    Stars Rest, Undisturbed
    , , , , , ,
  • Quarter Moon Rising,
    But Still Caught in Grief’s Rip Tides,
    With No Shore in Sight
    , , ,
  • This Morning, Every
    Day, All the Time, Like a Pulse,
    Life in Thoughts of You
    ,
  • Words Strung Like Jewels,
    Like Paint on Time’s Canvas, Like
    Touch Across Distance
    , ,
  • seduced-by-the-light
    Seduced by the Light
    Late on a Late Autumn Day
    I am Lost, Then Found
    , ,
  • There’s Venus Rising
    Above Our Neighbor’s Roofline
    Just Before the Dawn

    And Clouds Outlined in
    Colors too Passionate to
    Be Called Apricot

    And You Still Abed
    And Me, Driving East, Dreaming
    Of Home and Day’s End

    , , , , , ,
  • Boston and All That
    History, Mine and Others,
    Condenses to Fog
    , , , ,
  • Just Harvested Fields
    Stretch Satisfied, Radiant
    With a Sunset Blush
    , ,
  • Night Rain Sifting Down,
    Lit by Street Lamps, Sounding Like
    A Gentle Caress
    , ,
  • Stars Still Rule the Sky
    But Here and There, A Light in
    An Upstairs Window
    , ,
  • Sunrise on the Frost
    Ignores Modern Cynics to
    Paint the Fields Golden
    , , ,
  • At the City’s Edge
    Sunrise Paints Roofs and Fields With
    The Color of Dreams
    , , , ,
  • The Day Opens Up
    Like Sunrise Beneath the Wings
    Of a Sandhill Crane
    , , , ,
  • This Monday Morning
    My Car, Your Sandy Footprint
    And I am Content
    , ,
  • An Autumn Morning
    Sky Suggests Travel, But Cats
    Wind Around My Legs
    , , , ,
  • An Autumn Morning
    Courts the Clouds With a Brushing
    Touch of Lightest Gold
    , , ,
  • Twenty Five Years and
    Two O’clock have Come and Gone
    Like Dreams on Waking

    Sifting Through the Mind
    Slowly, All Effervescent
    And Insubstantial

    Saved by the Sure Weight
    Of Memory, Casting Its Light
    Into the Future

    , , , ,
  • Orange Sun Rising
    Through a Floating Summer Haze
    High Clouds Whisper Fall

    Something Beginning
    Or Ending Or Maybe Both
    But Always Longing

    And Only Blues on
    The Radio, or That’s Just
    All I Care to Hear

    , , , , , ,
  • One Summer Morning
    Fog at the Tree Line, The Earth
    Breathing, Thinking, “Fall”
    , , ,
  • It is a Kind of
    Late Summer Privilege, to Sit
    With Sleepy Eyed Cats
    ,

  • In Memoriam, Joe DiJulio

    He Has Gone Ahead
    But You Must Tarry Here for
    Some Little Longer

    Between Now and Then
    On That Long Bridge Between Loss
    And Recovery

    A Heavy Heart is
    Still a Sacred Vessel Filled
    With Enduring Love

    , , ,
  • Along Rural Roads
    Sweet Corn in Farm Stands Sings the
    Songs of Late Summer
    , , , , ,
  • Home From the City
    To You, Through Corridors of
    Bright and Wild Flowers
    , , ,
  • Allen Miller 1918-2015

    An Old Photograph,
    Tattered Edges, Creased and Scratched
    Faded and Fuzzy

    But She’s Turned Towards You
    Smiling, And Your Joy Shines Through
    All the Time That’s Passed

    Lighting Memories
    That Float and Glow Like Fireflies
    In the Late Evening

    , , , , ,

  • Late May, Sleeping In
    To the Dappled Sound of Rain
    And Flowers Growing

    , , , ,

  • Salad Dreams of Summer
    Rising Scent of Red
    Tomato, Fresh Sliced, Carries
    All My Summer Dreams

    , , ,

  • Brighter than Angels
     

    Just Before the Leaves
    Birch Limbs, Brighter than Angels,
    Etched on Bluest Sky

    , , ,

  • Sunset Stripe - Rose Masterpol
    Sunset Stripe
    Rose Masterpol

     
     
     
    An Urban Sunset,
    Iridescent Dragonflies
    Above Curb-side Pools

    , , ,


  • When Winter Won’t End
    When Even the Whitest Snow
    Wearies to Grey Ice

    Even Then, the Melting
    Reveals a Sun Warmed Rock, and
    Tells Another Story

    As Drifts Curve ‘Round Like
    Ripples From a Pebble Dropped
    In a Summer Pond

    , , ,


  • Another Winter’s Dawn
    Drawn in Symphonies of Gray
    And Played in Silence

    , , , ,


  • Surviving on Gifts
    Of Light and Song. Subzero
    Sunrises, Dulcet Chords

    , , ,

  • Cloudy and Colder
    The Day Settles in Like a
    Bad Weather Forecast

    No Fog to Soften
    Tattered Winter Edges or
    Curbside Frozen Trash

    But Night Falls, Clouds Clear,
    Full Moon Lights the Lake. A Passing
    Fox Pauses to Watch

    , , , , , ,


  • From Every Street Lamp
    A Drifting Winter Fog Pulls
    A Pale Cone of Light

    , ,

  • A Morning Fog Floats,
    Quiet as a Silent Prayer,
    Into the Tree Tops

    A Fog That Softens
    All Sight and Sound and Maybe
    All We Think We Know

    Snowflakes Drifting Down,
    Gently as Forgiveness, to
    Shroud Every Sharp Edge.

    , , , , , ,


  • Snow Falls Like Dreaming
    Talking to Myself, Believing
    Not a Single Word

    , ,


  • After the Leaves Fall
    Bare Trees Remain, A kind of
    Standing History

    , ,


  • Fall Seemed Late This Year
    But Still, Harvest’s In, Leaves Raked
    Before the First Snow

    , , , ,


  • First Snow and Last Leaves
    Rattle on Nearly Bare Limbs
    Above Frozen Lawns

    , ,


  • Yesterday’s Maples
    Were Infused Top to Bottom
    In Every Color

    Today’s Lawns Hold Half
    That Bounty in Pools Like an
    Impressionist’s Dream

    Tomorrow’s Landscape
    Distills all that Hued Movement
    Into Black and White

    , ,


  • Morning Mist, No Breeze,
    The Sound of a Leaf Falling,
    Cries of Unseen Geese

    , , ,


  • Just After Summer
    Before We Knew it was Fall
    Horse Tail Clouds and Fog

    , , 
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More From A Year in Haiku
About A Year in Haiku
Haiku’d Photographs
Haiku’d Short Stories
Haiku with The Photography of Michele Gast
Haiku with The Art of Juliette Crane
A Year In Haiku The Podcast

A Year in Haiku
is a
Prairie Star Studios
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