winter – haiku and other animals

to eat but winter wind. The bloody stone by the turn

jogging in winter you’ll never know the name they call you

splinter

as you try to catch a glimpse of the burnt remains it crawls under your skin where the bright sky of the north holds sovereignty over the too-short winter

what the worm knows of winter suddenly awake at 3

winter rain the smoothness of a kidney bean

my neighbor’s porch light for two months deep winter

my uncle from the stars of winter

the weight of Sunday winter clothing

bright winter morning
in another room
the kettle calls

ducks
come to my empty hands
winter