horns heard overhead:
an elegant brass quartet
in white tuxedos.
—
Brown fallen leaves bask
in the warmth of rising sun.
Forest floor crinkles.
—
If you hear a deer
coming in your direction,
It’s prob’ly a squirr’l.
—
‘republican democracy’
but come election, what I see
suggests contrived dichotomy
How often
do two twigs
work together
to catch a pine cone?
—
song sparrow on post.
a second one brings breakfast.
shared food. shared table.
—
bumblers and hummers
answer the invitation
of monarda blooms
—
juvenile robin
half-dozen worms droop from beak
“eat like a bird?” Ha!
—
a warbler
yellow-rumped
window-stunned
fear and senses stalled
just long enough
to be my friend
if only for a moment.
—
Twin yellow comets
chase each other, synchronized
Give up, land on limb
—
chipmunk’s spring deposits
are now towering blooms.
what seemed to be hoarding
has proven to be investing
with beautifully high returns.
—
in long, single file
like Beatles on Abbey Road
three gaggles parade
—
wind blows sweetly
through the reeds
while the bass
pulses underneath
and strings strum…
to hold it all together
—
a heavy air that threatens rain
and brings excuse to stay inside
is welcomed as an air to claim
a day of rest too long denied
sprightly chickadee
sticks beak in snow. emerges.
with frosty goatee.
birches at day’s end:
the sun chooses at random
several to keep
sage lichen dabbled
on a gray and white canvas
a subtle beauty
rainy December.
a red flag slices the drab:
northern cardinal
two lonesome brothers
kept each other company
for a century
four open perches;
nuthatches and chickadees
take turns on just one
red-breasted nuthatch
throws out several black seeds
before taking one
high above the trees
eagle nest waits silently
for coming spring brood
A wasps’ paper orb
hangs fragilely on a branch
over the river.
With His last, dying breath
the Light of the World
anoints His children
with golden crowns
making them kings.
Though it ended with no venison in the freezer, the weekend was not lost. Two amazing days in Creation are medicine for any soul. While I sat awaiting my quarry, I filled my notebook with the inspirations and the experience of basking in God’s handiwork– even if man did interrupt the tranquility with distant traffic noise and low-flying planes. And so… a few haikus from a tree stand:
My body shivers.
I see my breath in brisk air.
Sun’s rising warms me.
A nuthatch of Payne’s,
enters his cozy knot hole.
Then re-emerges.
three pink ribbons dance
tied to small trees marking lines
that men imagine
Breaking winter grays:
green moss, lichens sage and gold.
The trees are still dressed.
Five clean, white birches
stand neatly in a straight row.
One leans in to kiss.
I hear ‘swish’ above.
look to see, just over trees,
an eagle fly low
a blue jay clamors.
he leaps branch to branch squawking
oddly musical
A lonely, charred stump
recalls a forest fire
a century past.
squir’l scampers through leaves.
stops to devour a feast:
a cupcake I tossed
Long strings of black pearls
adorn the tall, gray lady
with green, bristled hair
I came for the deer
but now I’m hunting for words
to write my haiku.
among the drab hues
a sudden flash of azure
wings flourishing white
invisible thread
catches the sun, glints silver
and then disappears
Tree shadows lengthen
reaching to end a short day
and silence the woods.
A nation of larch
defies being evergreen.
A golden protest!
Smoke and a mirror;
Mist rises in early morn.
The lake is magic.
Birches in brisk air:
Scattered rows of white matches
clinging to last flame.
A continuation of Haiku: Autumn in MN.
A few more haiku inspired by autumn in Minnesota’s Nature:
Rows of red fingers
interlock in rev’rent grace.
sumac radiance
Towering green brush
dipped in cadmium orange.
Maple turns a leaf.
Quaking flakes of gold A few haikus written from the inspiration of autumn in northern Minnesota:
wind swirling tall pines:
The gravel is carpeted
in fresh, amber shag.
flickers and robins
As orange breasts herald spring,
yell’ wings lead the fall.
those wild crimson lips
kiss the shrubs where roses grew,
bid farewell to green
ArtesianMind 