
a broken shadow
drifting clouds after the storm
floats a hazy moon

a broken shadow
drifting clouds after the storm
floats a hazy moon
This week I went for a lunch-hour winter walk in the Arboretum. It had been a while since visiting there. I took a few photographs and share them here along with a haiku poem.





her fragile fingers
shuttle weaves through forest edge
whole and half notes dance

creek’s whispering breeze
thaw reveals Moscow Mountain
melting moonlight -drip

waters thaw and freeze
boiling bubbles flowing veins
color slips to gray

calving snow and ice
in the blinding snow -beating
melting metal heart

a blooming flower
into the sky reaching…
the frail old willow

morning -looking up
in the mirror branches grow
gray sprouts from my chin

water flow crossing
shy of the stone walk below
finds a spot to rest
Leaving the building after the photo shoot, I am not sure why I did it. It was spontaneous.
On the table a bowl of mints.
The wrappers made a scraping sound as I shoved the handful of them into my coat pocket.
I walked back to the office and on arrival I removed my snow boots and hung my coat.
I sat down and proceeded to upload the photographs on the hard drive for a later edit.
I answered a few emails and instant message requests.
I warmed up lunch.
Putting on my coat, I and headed out for walk downtown.
The snow still falling.
I came upon a person shoveling the walk.
Passing him I said, “Thank You.”
He said “What?”
I said, “Thank you for clearing the walk. Would you like a mint?” (I had just put my hand in my pocket and found them).
He said, “No.”
I pulled the mints out and held them in my hand.
A couple of the mints had red and green stripes.
He said, “I like candy canes.”
I held out my hand and he took one, thanking me.
We continued on our way to the scrapping sound of the shovel.


above the tree tops
in the tree shadows -raindrops
waxing and waining

wake! she’s got to go!
old dog frolics in the snow
a shimmering moon!

needles pierce the dark
wings of silvery snowflakes
thread of window light

morning winter breeze
the front door melts -shivering
an Owl’s morning call