a dog-walker’s
puffs of breath
Watching the dawn from my third-floor room in Washington, D.C. When the sun came up, it shone straight in my face. I’m embarrassed to admit I wasn’t even sure I was facing east, so it was an unexpected pleasure. Most of my haiku come from a place of more intimate knowledge of the land, which does have a down side: at home, I’m somewhat less likely to have ah-ha! moments, thinking (mistakenly) I’ve already seen it all. Whence I suppose the age-old link between travel and haiku composition.
Woodrat photohaiku 