Winter Coastal Haiku
Snow again, broken
from the clouds, falling, half-
falling through white air.
Snow in trees, the fields
filling up—we can hold it
in both hands, warm hands.
Snow on the East Road
listening to itself, a few
lost sea miles inland.
Snowflakes almost large
enough to count, the crow’s wings
opening darker.
The long blue evening
turning night—“it was snowing . . .
it was going to snow.”
The roofs of barns on
fire, the dawn down snow rows of
cut December corn.
The dawn down snow rows
of cut December corn, roofs
of the barns on fire.
After the Tzeltal
Archaic Torso of the Sun God Apollo as a Star Apple, an Oil Lamp, a Broken Mirror
Winter Coastal Haiku