Haiku

light lapping lake waves;
gnarled leafless trees seek the sky –
purposeless walking

mist on the lake:
horizons hidden within
its still silence

light returning
as we grope amidst
this new darkness

a large distant dog
patrolling the trail up ahead –
we choose not to meet

trail magic:
the perfect walking stick
for a forgetful old man

without hat
without gloves –
first spring walk

early morning sun –
a fleeing mistress leaving
winter in her wake

melting snow slides
off the metal rooftop –
in for a double

a trilling chirp high
from the still-leafless treetops –
I’ve been duly warned.

which “the rest
of my life”
will I now lead?

finches and sparrows
alight on perches, gazing
at absent feeders

while I was napping
daylight turns again to the
dark night of the soul