I record this near daily practice not because I know anything about writing haiku, but because I love the snapshots they afford — sometimes better than anything else I might write about a given day. Enjoy!

3/1
First chapter 12 point
one inch margins, submit
by five. Rinse. Repeat.

3/2
Raindrops tap skylight
wet dimples that slide and blur
catalpa branches.

3/3
News from Ohio
focuses on folks’ anger
not on the poisons.

3/4
Walnut coffee cake,
butternut soup, and salmon.
I’ll press the napkins!

3/5
Dirty, twisted mask
lying curbside, so forlorn —
like a weird sage punk.

3/6
Six men tap brackets,
forms numbered with blue stencils.
A new foundation.

3/7
Two thousand plus steps
to Chase Ave, the halfway point.
Look at your phone much?

3/8
Winter is ending.
We know by the length of days,
crocus poking up.

Gut pain lower left.
Slept hard from noon until three.
Sipping water now.

3/9
White husky returns.
Slower, stiffer than before.
She’ll still stare you down.

3/10
Midnight scroll for son
reconsidering majors.
Must we exclude math?

3/11
It’s above freezing
but snow drifts down anyway.
Casual, flirty.

3/12
The hat you gave me
abandoned on the park bench.
Back I went for it.

3/13
Jane offers me stock.
Homemade. Chicken. I say yes.
Mushroom risotto!

3/14
Cold percussive rain
patters my umbrella, code
I don’t understand.

3/15
Texas court about
to go rogue, undo rulings
by FDA. FUCK!

3/16
The beech shadows stretch
across neighbor’s lawn, somehow
looking sweet, lively.

3/17
One potato, two
potato, grey rot. Happy
Saint Patrick’s Day. Oy!

3/18
Etsy nightmare sends
me outdoors. I smell spring and
decide to close shop.

3/19
Brave daffodils pop.
A cold wind, a sapphire lake.
Cedar branches flap.

3/20
Crows and blue jays squawk.
The music house is silent.
Then, a dead sparrow.

3/21
Found: the two of spades.
Was freedom on your mind then
or curious dread?

3/22
Clang, clang, clang, and whoosh.
Then, T squealing to a halt.
Above: dusty blue.

3/23
A head full of snot.
Pink stripe blessedly absent.
Soon, a second bath.

3/25
“Remember,” says rake
and leaf mold, “all the seasons
that have come before.”

3/26
The old tin liner —
seasons of corrosion, rust —
the bottom gives way.

3/27
Tiny maroon blades
emerge out of winter’s dirt.
Come June: peonies.

3/28
Rain dimples the deck
also speckles my glasses.
It’s a hot soup day.

3/29
Step outside and walk.
Chilly enough to go back
and grab a down coat.

3/30
Soon after sunset
five planets will line up, shine.
I won’t see them though.

3/31
First indictment day.
Thank you SBJ. Thank you!
Sweet baby jesus.

Missed February first, but otherwise, here’s a month of haiku.

2/2
I spatchcocked a bird.
Found the spine and cut it out.
Then broke the breastbone.

2/3
Irish wool and fleece:
a two-sided coat stitched up
for the dog. Cold snap.

2/4
A violent pop
Shards held in place by the screen.
Ten below zero.

2/5
February air
skims the lake. A delicate
sparkle where ice-free.

2/5 – bonus
He says, “I’ll fix it
come spring.” Long-married answer:
“Oh? Spring of what year?”

2/6
Feb six, Monday, and
I do not wish to begin
this week. Will coffee help?

2/7
Gasp at the rubble.
Unquantifiable loss.
Somehow, we keep count.

2/8
Heat wooshes through vents
making cactus branch waggle.
Dog licks his paws. Home.

2/9
Grey sky. Rain speckles
the windshield as we head west.
Snow in the Berkshires?

2/10
Mountain to Glory.
Burgner’s Farm is gone. Pines Mom
planted tower tall.

2/11
She knows everyone.
Front desk, servers, her neighbors.
We’re just passing through.

2/12
One child picks New York.
The other picks Chicago.
News from Rieko.

2/13
“Maybe we’ve had six
inches of snow this season
total?” Overheard.

2/14
Taupe branches lift up
a pewter sky. But sunrise
burnishes bark gold.

2/15
Another tear down.
So begins the shrill beeping!
Next: jack hammer hell.

2/16
Children at the school
scream and holler in delight.
Sixty-one degrees.

2/17
“Will you rub my feet?”
Asking makes the dog go wild.
As if he’s denied!

2/18
Walking the dog loop,
I plan a salad for lunch:
beets, goat cheese, walnuts.

2/19
Campus is empty
but the swans can be found, one
so still, death waiting.

2/20
He arrived by train
wearing a gold and blue tie.
Zelenskyy teared up.

2/21
Pages from three years
ago. Ritual remembrance
or was it not me?

2/22
A leaden sky criss-
crossed by wires, poked by air vents.
I think: how lovely!

2/23
No school. No plows. White
streets with slush below. Curbs
in hiding. Take care!

2/24
Wind scatters ice chips.
They land on our heads like hail.
But it’s not. Sun’s out.

2/25
A light dusting fell
Cambridge street gone fairy white.
Twelve women, two cakes.

2/26
Where are the two mutts
who live at Bartlett corner?
Too cold to romp free.

2/27
Sleuth, poppycock, glare,
smudge, redress, cacophony.
Some words that I like.

2/28
He parks at the T
wearing hat, coat, gloves, flip flops.
A sign of something.