Posts tagged dexter
Haiku-a-day
A buck with large antlers looks startled at the edge of a creek on a foggy fall morning.

In the morning fog
we surprised each other, he
with heavy antlers.

Haiku-a-day
A tree stands on the bank of a creek at sunrise with fog lying low.

Sunrise coming on,
fog turns the creek violet,
like a fresh heartbreak.

Haiku-a-day
A banded woolly bear caterpillar on a wooden boardwalk half lit by sun in October.

Warm October sun,
he’ll stay a caterpillar
for the long winter.

Haiku-a-day
A broken V of Canadian Geese fly over a treeline in blue sky just after sunrise.

Cold October air,
over the treeline, honking,
in a broken V.

Haiku-a-day
A view of grasslands with dramatic skies at sunrise.

Wild things who live here —
soft-bodied and stemmed, complete
in air and water.

Haiku-a-day
A view of a small group of people on a church lawn having their animals blessed.

The things that we do
— blessing of the animals —
to show communion.

Haiku-a-day
A tree seen across a grassland with sunrise behind it on a foggy October morning.

This tree catches fog
and sunlight in October
and sends them along.

Haiku-a-day
A mother deer and her fawn walk along a path next to a creek on a sunny morning.

The fawn follows fast,
his mother, along the creek,
their reflections, too.

Haiku-a-day
Grasslands at sunrise on a cloudy day.

Their chatter today,
a cloud of red-winged blackbirds,
fills the whole grassland.

Haiku-a-day
The moon in the morning over a creek and foggy grasslands.

This morning, the moon,
like my Hiroshige print,
I feel the same way.

Haiku-a-day
A house sparrow perched on a hard wire protruding from an old brick building, listening.

My understanding
has come close from time to time:
only this moment.

Haiku-a-day
A view of the moon in the morning over a creek in the fog in September.

Moon over the creek,
the moon in the creek water,
the moon in me, too.

Haiku-a-day
A view of wildflowers and grasslands in September as the sun sets.

All that’s gone missing —
birds in the dark thicket,
they don’t think of it.

Haiku-a-day

The soft crunch and pull
of still-green creekbank leaves
in the young deer’s mouth.

Haiku-a-day
A large mass of burnweed gone to seed on a bright sunny day.

Feasts for goldfinches,
burnweed about to set sail —
gone with the first rains.

Haiku-a-day
A view of a creek, weeping willow, blue sky, and dramatic clouds over forest and grasslands on the first day of autumn.

An exclamation
of high clouds over the creek —
have I changed today?

Haiku-a-day
A black and white photo of a black and white photo dog seen in profile with the person who loves him most.

“Oh, Mack,” I say it
at least once every day —
to you and to me.

Ten months without you.

Haiku-a-day
Morning sun on an old red brick building against a blue September sky with a mural painted on it in Dexter, Michigan.

Light in the alley,
sun rises on the heron
fishing at the creek.

Haiku-a-day
Raindrops falling on the small rapids of a creek in September.

Of course, a haiku,
a raindrop on the rapids,
a lifetime in it.

Haiku-a-day
A Canadian Goose swims alone in fog in a creek at sunrise.

This goose is grieving,
he survives on foxtail grass,
eaten fast, alone.