tea time

the winter sun strained
through bare branches

coyote

whose woods these are
while we sleep

my shadow
stretches out

the wren sings down
another stream

a woodpecker’s
urgent knocks

56 years later
with heron legs

to the mountain
its hiking stick

halfway up the mountain
beginning to fade

[haibun]
teethmarks
on the trail sign…
my last sip of tea

how unlooked-for
to be let go

From time to time a flash of panic, as if I’ve forgotten something — but I can’t think what.

missing mountaintop
in the pit
of my stomach

acres of silence
one red squirrel