winter

snow-drifted landscape
this expanse is no place
but winter

dusting of snow

dusting of snow--
lifting my child to place
the faded angel

Tetons in snow

Tetons in snow--
the jagged terrain
of my soul

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving--
hands held around the table
for dad's tenor grace

economic haiku in NY Times headlines

to buy children’s gifts
mothers do
without

outlook grows
more dire
for housing market

repose

fallen leaves
fill the hammock--
autumn repose

returning

returning--
her aged hand draws back
the lace curtain

graveside

graveside--
my breasts
leaking

early winter

Happy birthday, Andy.

early winter--
placing on my son's grave
baby's breath

Atlanta autumn

Atlanta autumn--
the last leaf
gone with the wind

winter moon

winter moon--
the cygnet tucks her head
in a snowy wing

silence

winter silence--
only the sound
of falling snow

persimmon moon

persimmon moon--
the involuntary moan
when you enter me

gibbous moon

gibbous moon--
the fit of our pale bodies
spooning

hunter moon

hunter moon--
a lone coyote howls
from the foothills

late autumn

late autumn--
in the shorn field
a weathered barn falling

publication in Simply Haiku

Check out my haiku published in Simply Haiku.
Most of these poems appeared here first in one form or another.

first snow

first snow--
seeping wild rose hips
for tea

wind

wind
blowing my dress
up

field goal

high school football
the field goal clears
the moon

veteran's parade

moisted-eyed
those who remain salute--
veteran's parade

eau de Afton

after riding
she bears the scent
of wind and sweat

autumn moon

autumn moon--
polishing grandma's silver
I see her eyes

new moon

new moon--
the swaddled newborn
latches on

caresses

caressing the wind
that caresses them--
bare branches

translucent leaf

translucent leaf--
autumn sun limns
its fragile skeleton

rain

rain--
through the window
the landscape runs

voting

wishing not
for an "I voted" sticker
but an ink-stained thumb

windblown leaves

windblown leaves--
becoming versed
in this language of loss

day of the dead

day of the dead--
the candle sputters
with your breath

early frost

early frost--
the moon cradled in
a tree's bare branches