100 haiku challenge - 25

Bud casings fallen

Away from white-petaled blooms.

Springtime sidewalk crunch.

100 haiku challenge - 24

The ends of branches
Grow new or maybe not new
Extensions of life.

Yep. I like spring.

100 haiku challenge - 23

Without my glasses

The River is brown and gray

And dotted with shacks.

I love the train ride between St. Louis and Kansas City. The last few times I took it there was so much snow on the riverbanks and towns. I love the quiet gray and brown of late winter and early spring. Love seeing the nests and new life along branches.

Also I tend to strain my neck from facing out the window.

100 haiku challenge - 22

A bike ride today

Slowly through puddles and chill.

I hope to do more.

Today I got to perform the sacred rites of helping a friend pack for a move. We shared breakfast, coffee, water, joyful tunes, and the surprise of skilled book people when it comes to packing those delicate and breakable things. A codex is sturdy, but it will break more quickly than imagined. 

There were three of us, a regular three of cups at a temple to honor the riches of a quiet and textured life. I felt a little worried at first because I was late. And then because one of friends has actually studied methods of packing books to insure their safety and's then it was all fine because we pack books in almost precisely the same way.

In the end, our friend was delighted and the way forward was eased in good humor and excellence.

100 haiku challenge - 21

Golden light at dusk

Shining through leafless branches

End of a long day

This day was beautiful. I found myself wanting to be more in it, more aware of the changing light and the quality of the sun on the bricks in my neighborhood. I wanted to be the warmth and to learn the stories of the walls at evening.

100 haiku challenge - 20

My long evening stroll

smelled of mist and growing things

along empty walks.

100 haiku challenge - 19

I pulled up the blinds
and we shared a gray moment,
remembrance of peace.

Today it rained, as it has for a few days, as it will for a few days more. From my work station, I could feel the world grow grayer and hear thunder in the quiet of the afternoon. Most colleagues had gone home; those that remained were tired and slightly under different weather. My cubical mate exclaimed in gentle joyful sounds when I lifted the blind on the window behind us. We spoke of wet bark and the release of a rain storm and the moments of quiet and rest in days like this. Softness finding softness at the dripping root of things.