haiku

we work in silencethe only acknowledgementan occasional touch

we'll meet up laterto watch a movie or a showsitting on the couch

she's drawing comicswhile I'm writing poetryeach in our own world

sitting on the couchcomfortably togetherwith my one true love

through blinding whitenessa blackbird cloud reminds me:winter isn't death

unlike rural Mainea rooster often woke mein my mid-city home

Canada geese --many migrate farther southsome stay in Maine

at grandfather's houseemanating from his poresthe stench of death

a row of pine treesdecorated by winter --snow-painted landscape

two cats sleepingwashing machine spinningsnow blowing sideways

finding the lightunseen in the mirrorthere in your eyes

waking to the soundof a glass hitting the floorwithout shattering

anyone can startsuccessful people finish--

what started as rainbecame snow, sleet, then rain again--identity crisis

house on the water:home to seven cats and one dog(who thinks he's a cat)

dense foggrass patches in the snowthus ends December

holes in the lawnstocked with winter supplies--chipmunk burrows

there's a storm comingshelter in place until dawn --squirrel in an oak tree

in the carriage housea pile of flattened boxes --winter home for mice

driving fast enoughthrough pouring rainwith no wipers