Haiku-a-day
Three wood type sets of the initials 'JF' over a charcoal drawing of a woman's face by Bronzino.

The complications —
(of propinquity and art)
he gave me my initials,
wood stained with black ink.

Haiku-a-day
A pink and orange sky at dawn over a silhouetted treeline.

Jupiter was here
in this pink rising ether
under the full moon.

Haiku-a-day
A close-up of a yellow rose bloom.

For Kathryn Stripling Byer

Sunrise to sunrise,
the poet wanders ghost fields
naming loved roses.

Haiku-a-day
A pilieated woodpecker perched in the high branches of a mature tree in a forest on a cloudy winter day.

Ancient wings and beak,
his call breaks the cold silence
in the still forest.

Haiku-a-day
A view towards the sky of bare-limbed branches in a mature forest on a cloudy winter day.

A December day,
forest open to the sky —
nests and birds revealed.

Haiku-a-day
An old nest built in a gnarled willow tree trunk.

A nest in the knot,
perfectly rounded and shaped,
birds fledged and flying.

Haiku-a-day
Evergreens lit by headlights next to a street with a purpe and pink sky behind them in early evening.

The night sky changes,
over me and my dog walking —
first purple, then pink.

Haiku-a-day
A pair of empty milkweed seed husks tacked to a board among handmade folded paper stars.

Milkweed husks like wings
raised solemnly, gray and cream,
taking in the air.

Haiku-a-day

A cold winter bloom,
sunburst lichen under snow —
geese creak in the sky.

Haiku-a-day
The trunks of two Beech trees growing close togther in a forest.

Side-by-side beech trees,
gray-skinned, here long before me
and long after me.

Haiku-a-day
A pair of Mute swans in silhouette on a pond at sunset in November.

The wind comes in cold,
I’ve got a sadness lurking —
Mute swans preen and preen.

Haiku-a-day
A tree trunk and three large rocks at the edge of a river in November.

The air’s been let out,
hardly any birdsong heard,
the bare bones of earth show.