curve of her shoulder evening stroll

(Jan. 5, 2012, Daily Haiku)

hatsuyume does the poem end?

a child's trust how tiny the stars are

orphaned fawns quench their thirst a rain-filled bomb crater

new year's day  again

(home again)

home again this new year smells of her

what you left behind river canyon

(for Woody)

these words eat tyrants

a beggar singing in the rain pennies from heaven

jingle bells the tinkle of frozen crabapples

winter solstice at Gitmo darkness forever

(shifting the weight)

winter solstice I shift my weight from one foot to the other

with one breath the mourning dove's high coo

just a doorway on an empty street homeless refuge

(without a hat (again))

sometimes a man or vending machine 'neath clouds without a hat

(crossing)

crossing a river off my to-do list

Salvation Army kettle the difference between want and need

my little girl's smile first snow

buttering pans the room's only sound

how heartlessly you bring me to tears sweet onion

(again December)

again December looking for a womb

(ellipses)

year's end the ellipses of crows...

wind sound shapes the winter darkness

(old soul)

no stiff water yet you have an old soul she tries

digging trenches digging graves dignity

(immigration)

spacious skies above the border line

itallcomestogether in the darkness for the owl

(don't forget)

don’t forget your name fritillary

”the weather continues …” I zap on to confrontations with a shark

winter stars so few poets