thirty fourth

eye starved for color

settles on dried cherry blooms

and a spring not yet

thirty third

gray sky drips to the

forest floor; old pale brown leaves -

the only bright spot

thirty second

leafless vine holds fast,

embalmed onto concrete slab

winter, dressed in drab

thirty first

dark, wet vase-shaped trees

frozen in wild dance poses

monuments to now

thirtieth

days past the wild storm

mighty maple limb supine

great stag's felled antler

twenty ninth

lone dark winter tree

stands so still against white sky

holds its breath til spring

twenty eighth

out fly two black crows -

wings beating into the white -

birthed from tree's dark loins

twenty seventh

bare charcoal-drawn tree

stretched against winter's white sky

holds only stillness

twenty sixth

old clematis bends,

pressed slowly by the season's

steady, wet fingers

twenty fifth

ice now a puddle,

lone birch leaf meanders, lost:

where is my autumn?

twenty fourth haiku

yesterday's leaf pile

shiver white, low-angled light

the raking can wait

twenty third haiku

crescent bowl holds night

glowing horn of plenty moon

spilling forth winter

twenty second haiku

city birds roll up -

tarnished beads strung on phone line -

riding out the storm

twenty first haiku

as dark clouds roll in,

sooty snowballs line phone wires -

pigeons perched and tucked

twentieth haiku

corn stalk bows to frost

cold droplets shiver on glass

beckoning winter

nineteenth haiku

street lamp reflected

cold droplets shiver on glass

corn stalk bows to frost

eighteenth haiku

wicks dance in a row

haven't stepped outside all day

giving thanks for you

seventeenth haiku

old pines stand tall, firm,

while only their shadows shift

why must I weaken?

sixteenth haiku

so cozy in here,

inside blankets' heavy cave

outside, fall's wide wind

fifteenth haiku

not yet the last year -

breathless, red-cheeked, laughing boy -

you will jump in leaves

fourteenth haiku

wind brings breath of snow,

crunchy leaf scent, strangest spice:

freshly cut green grass

thirteenth haiku

staring at highway,

almost missed it entirely:

trees dusted with snow

twelfth haiku

brown leaves still clinging

white sky snows furiously

pushing through autumn

eleventh haiku

filling bags with leaves

like feeding hungry infants

more spills out than in

tenth haiku

grandfather cloud drifts

frisky blackbird wants to race

grandfather cloud drifts

ninth haiku

sawing wood, game heard

events folded together

origami day

eighth haiku

bright sky hurt my eyes

heavy gray mist, cool, soothing

matching dimmer mood

seventh haiku

green yamulka cap

bare-branched prayer-shawl, arms outstretched

mid-life thanksgiving

sixth haiku

heaving to lift leaves,

I catch hydrangea's rebloom

flush pink faces rise

fifth haiku

sixth grade youngster bounds

from trampoline to leaf pile

to walking away

fourth haiku

fresh paint wakens walls

burnt sienna, pale slate blue

calling autumn in

third haiku

showy sisters flaunt

third burning bush bides her time

until fall is ripe

first haiku

sweet new-turned leaf breath

fall in exuberant death

tightened scarf now loosed

second haiku

tight hibiscus buds

hard tomatoes clutch the vine

holding summer still