Strolling down the Allegheny Front on an old rail bed. A haibun.
finding a clump of snow
in my coat pocket
from a dangling vine
the wind and me
dead leaves rising up
Some thoughts toward a rite of spring.
a small bird’s shadow
crossing the snow
the easy chair’s
all the wild birds are scolding something in the hedge
the snow shares a shadow with the wall
trees drag the rippled snow with their nets
digging through the blue shadows in search of food
the paint may be chipping but what fine shadows