As part of my daily practice, I try to create at least one haiku a day. They aren’t always good and often need revising, and sometimes they aren’t even worth revisiting. But, I write them and try to save some of them here.
2022
brightly colored doors in rows too low to the ground beckon us come in quilted squares of green cover the sleeping mountains and feed summer calves leaves like confetti color the ground where we walk winter is coming Night's cooling breath brings sweet sleep and thick morning dew to cleanse our spirits
2021
orange-beaked mama holds fast to long summer grass fluffing her spring nest black cat sits unfazed satisfied she belongs here-- her garden today blue jay on the fence bobs and sings in bell tones to teach baby birds the clatter of birds fills the cool morning air and my still sleeping head fledglings practice flight back and forth from their front door christmas wreath nest fake pine makes a home strands of spanish moss spill out spring swallows winter neighbors, cars, and trucks move past me on sunlit streets May’s breezes blow by sweet scents follow me Magnolia and Jasmine spread sugar all around I think of nothing only fragrances fill my mind and I remember long southern summers picking golden scuppernong— thick skins and sweet juice today mulberries fall from trees and color the sidewalks and fingers blueberry bunches fill the bushes, enticing me to try them, too warm sun on my back, flowering trees, and ripe fruits spring turns to summer orange beside red sitting on the rusty rail touching beak to beak smooth dark fins rise up from green water to form a perfect circle the mangroves hide a secret passageway for us through black water as sun fades from sight we hear splashing water and see fish try to fly she walks out the door into bright sun and birdsong after cleansing rain modest green and pink never missing their moment heads bowed in prayer reminding us all to turn away from darkness towards the son's light
Clearing and cleaning Preparing for the new year She finds space to breathe The beautiful morn Hides her face among gray clouds Storms are coming soon Sun-cast shadows form As the hours of the day pass Morning’s darkness gone Squirrel at my window Stealing seeds put out for birds Staring back at me Hanging down headfirst Enjoying his breakfast here No birds dare return Thick mist pushes down Settling on top of the waves Hiding her treasures She clings to my hair Makes it hard to see the beach Enshrouds everything Only outlines show The way back to the shoreline And tracks in the sand Back and forth she comes To the feeder for her fill Surprised. She sees me. Perched atop the fence She wipes her beak on both sides Satisfied. She flies. The joy of learning A secret now unfurling Becomes mine to share He hangs from the fence Reaching for food, and perfects The flying trapeze Like old films, light flicks Shadows move on sleeping grass Sun and clouds play games Bright light out my door Illumines budding oak trees February’s gone Roots loosened by time And rising waters doomed her She returns to dust
2020
Amy’s haiku
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they arrive like ferns
fiddleheads, quiet and closed
in time, they open
unfurling green leaves
emerging sounds from the fronds
finding their voices
they tell old stories,
and create songs in new soil
of hope, growth, and change
winter migration
tired and far from her home
she begins again
she isn’t alone
family and new-found friends
help her build a nest
they bring twigs and vines
while she weaves a sweet new song
of hope and of rest
woodpeckers delight
beetles breaking through to sap
red marks the tree's end
darkness, a blanket
covers her round face, yet still
her smile lights the night
only a sliver
she shines through the darkest hour
night cannot take her
she glides across grass
a sure guide for spotted fawn
searching for their food
life of practice 