it’s white springtime
#fakenews
Category: haiku
college town
even the old motel
is younger than me
Four months away
even the full moon isn’t
where I left it
bronze Gandhi
patina sending tendrils
toward the earth
cloudy Sabbath
all eyes are on the bright
heirloom tomatoes
where that heron used to stand
a painting of a heron
In Weimar
the very trees are smothered
in historic moss
border terrier
this time I only merit
a brief sniff
on the morning
of my departure leaves bordered in frost
unsettled sky—
studying the markings
of bark beetle larvae
bound tight
by a dead leaf—
cleavers
still nodding
where the fisher broke cover
foamflowers
