Haiku # 833

Arching at this touch,
her belly reaching skywards –
ecstasy of light

Opening my book –
a mountain stream, rocks and moss
and leaves whispering

On a moonlit branch
two birds sharing the quiet
of a winter night

Haiku # 830

When do we become
the captives of our faces –
masks of polished stone

Leaves in his white beard
the old man of the mountain
whistles with the wind

After the rainstorm
in a small pond by the rocks
blackbirds dip and splash

First days of the year…
the leaves on the ground soaking
in the thawing snow

A new war begins…
sipping my green tea, I gaze –
a world of white snow

The year’s first haiku –
I smile at a leaf, budding
spring green in my soul