Snow

The following “Haiku from Index Cards” celebrate frozen water. I have more haiku and senryu starting with the word “snow” than with most other words (the following are only selections).

snow about to fall

in the empty playground

active shooter

             (written 2018, published 2021)

snow-dimmed moonlight—

the trip we plan

despite the diagnosis

             (written 2022, published 2024)

snow-dusted acorn—

you forgot one

chipmunk!

             (date written unrecorded, but 1989 or earlier, published 1990)

snow event—

a Seattle street

now a sledding hill

             (written 2013, published 2013)

snow falling

after the funeral

a deeper silence

             (written 2018, published 2018; for Leonard Cohen; see “Memorial Haiku”)

snow falling

onto the old fishing dock . . .

her hand in mine

             (written 2017, published 2017; see “From Jumble Box”)

snow flake

                   on the eye

    of the dead lynx

             (written 1993, published 2004)

snow flurries . . .

the doctor’s pause

at malignant

             (written 2021, published 2022; see “Haiku Forum Haiku,” with Japanese translation)

snow in the forecast—

our booster shots

rescheduled again

             (written 2022, published 2022; a pandemic poem)

snowman in the yard

my bare toes

wriggle over the floor vent

             (written 1995, published 1999)

snow melts me

             (written 2019, published 2023; see “Now” rengay)

snow on the hilltops—

an out-of-state license

on the Harley

             (written 2013, published 2017)

snow on the hills—

the drive to the service

seems so long

             (written 2014, published 2021; see “Buried” sequence)

snow on the landing—

my resolution

to meet more angels

             (written 1994, published 1995; see “Angels We Have Heard on High” sequence)

snow on the landing—

      the prints

of the old woman’s walker

             (written 1993, published 1994)

snow on the path

     leading me

into deep woods

             (written 1992, published 2016)

snow on the sill . . .

cat turned

to the window

             (written 1994, published 1998; see “Almond Tea” renku)

snow slides

from the school bus roof—

the stray’s sneeze

             (written 2012, published 2018)

snow-storm subsiding . . .

      the last page torn

      from the mystery novel

             (written 1992, published 1998)

snow-swept crossing—

the shudder

      through freight cars

             (written 1996, published 1998; see “From Raku Teapot Haiku”)

snow ticking

at a library window—

the indigent’s smell

             (written 2012, published 2013)

snow walk—

the way the moon

follows me home

             (written 2012, published 2012; see “With Cherries on Top”)