Guest Book

full-fox-print-color-corrected-reducedWelcome!  Please read some of my poetry while you’re here. Even if a post is two years old, they’re being read every day. They’re all current. Feel free to join the conversation. Lastly, treat this post as a Guest Book. Offer suggestions, improvements, requests or just say Hello! If you have a question concerning poetry or a poem, click read more at the end of this sentence and fill out the form. Continue reading
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November 19th 2017

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cooking
····the last butternut squash—winter
········clouds
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We’ve cooked the last of our squash tonight, but the haiku is mostly inspired by some correspondence. Another poet was challenged to write a haiku based on the kigo “winter clouds”. And so, putting the same task to myself, I wrote the haiku above. I’ve also given autumn over to winter as far as the season of my haiku go. The morning started at 50 degrees, and by mid-afternoon it was spitting snow.
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321 November 19th 2017 | bottlecap
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November 17th 2017

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late
····November—streetlights reflecting in empty
········sidewalks
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Once more I feel as though I’m at wit’s end, having nothing to write, struggling and dissatisfied with the last several haiku. I continue to rewrite them. However, I admit to especially liking the November 13th haiku—among my very favorite. Cheek to cheek, composting, two old lovers. The beginnings of winter are everywhere. Out late last night, walking the back neighborhood of Randolph, Vermont. The yards were white under a thin crust of snow, so thin the blades of the grass still poked through.
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319 November 17th 2017 | bottlecap
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November 12th 2017

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Today I was twice startled by a circling moth, this though it was in the mid-twenties and the ice never thawed in the shadows. Just the heat of the sun, despite the cold air, was all the tiny heart needed to keep beating.
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frost
····in the mid-morning’s shadows—midnight’s
········stars
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314 November 12th 2017 | bottlecap
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November 11th 2017

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Another wintrish day in Vermont. The temperature never climbed above freezing. The pot of water out back in the field only stayed water for as long as the sun shone in it. I kept the wood stove burning through the afternoon. I wonder if I’ll put it out again or whether the cold is here to stay?
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icy
····chimneys—a dozen pillars of moonlight
········rising
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313 November 11th 2017 | bottlecap
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