Monday, April 8, 2024

Poetry Month first week

Flickers of 'haiku' without brightness, but a start.

Surprised by changes
in the roads we walk, yet blind
to the oceans' effortless shape-shifting.

Dawn birds sing, crows caw;
the pink sunrise denies the storm --
so why do I fret?

The miracle is watching
birds soar on the storm-winds
a not so simple peace

Ice-encased red maple buds
spring undecided shatters dreams
of blooming

Early robin stunned
by a leaden snow wonders:
to nest or not to nest

The wind whips chill -
open water ripples - in flight
two geese synchronize

Silently, wait and wait
until the stream's flow draws the gaze --
-- the heron has flown away.

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