Haiku

rivulets of fog
meander down the hillside
licking the fresh leaves

on the lake’s expanse
fisherman try their day’s luck –
gulls lurk overhead

you are the spectre
of all possibilities
i will never know

the ice kisses
the lake goodbye –
so blue the water!

what I desire
is more of
less

the melting snowbanks
thinner and thinner: no one
much cares when they’ve gone

at seventy:
the winter moon
a shade bluer

the storm approaches –
safe in a warm winter womb
with tea and quiet

grey squirrel tracks
break the silence
of the virgin snow

greeting the new year:
grey sunlight, one dead cousin –
snow would be welcome