The following “Haiku from Index Cards” begin with spring, which is always a good place to start. I have more haiku and senryu starting with the word “spring” than with most other words (the following are only selections). See also “Spring Breeze,” “Spring Cleaning,” and “Spring Thaw” for additional spring poems.
spring afternoon—
the twelve-year-old slam-dunks
from a ladder
(written 1992, published 2093)
spring again—
I click the button
to reset my password
(written 2013, published 2018)
spring birdsong . . .
wanting you here
to hear it
(written 1990, published 1990)
spring eviction—
dried flies
on the bachelor’s sill
(written 1992, published 2001)
spring haze—
I lose again
at solitaire
(written 2013, published 2018)
spring haze . . .
the alpenglow
going slow
(written 2013, published 2013)
spring lightning—
a flower’s shadow
against the fortress wall
(written 2011, published 2017; see “From The Sleepless Planet”)
spring night—
at the empty intersection
the light turns green
(written 1999, published 2002)
spring peepers—
my daughter jumping
around the garden
(written 2013, published 2016)
spring rain—
an old ballpoint pen
stuck in garden clay
(written 1992, published 1994)
spring rain . . .
the chafing
of my crutches
(written 2016, published 2016: see “Still I Go” sequence)
spring rain—
two umbrellas
lean together
(written 1993, published 2000)
spring river—
you win again
at Pooh Sticks
(written 1999, published 2001)
spring sun—
a pallbearer stops
to tie his shoe
(written 1994, published 1999; see “Into a Roiling Sea” sequence)
spring sun—
at the top of the rollercoaster
she says yes
(written 2001, published 2005; for Hiromi; see “My Neighbor”)
spring thunder—
the red and white flag
folded on the mantel
(written 1993, published 1993; see “One by One” linked verse)
spring tide
slowly lifting
coastal fog
(written 1990, published 1991)
spring wind—
a cherry blossom
circles the well
(written 1990, published 1990; see “After the Fall” sequence)
spring walk—
the train trestle
and its many shadows
(written 2013, published 2016)
spring woods . . .
a distant voice
falls silent
(written 2012, published 2016; for Hortensia Anderson; see “Memorial Haiku”)