February 16th 2017

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ducks
····on vanishing waters—a midwinter’s
········morning
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Driving along the Connecticut river and before the snow had covered it, the ice was like flawless glass—clear and black. Beads of frost, like white and perfectly scattered marbles, dotted the surface.
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47 February 16th 2017 | bottlecap
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February 15th 2017

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also
····shining in the moonlit rafters—an old iron
········skillet
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I remember this time last year, wondering if I had any more of the winter’s haiku in me. As far as I know, no Japanese poets attempted to write a haiku a year though they did, occasionally, claim to write several thousand in a single day. Every so often I write a haiku with some philosophical import, which I would like to write more of, but mostly the ordinary strikes me in unusual or extraordinary ways.
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46 February 15th 2017 | bottlecap
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February 14th 2017

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on
····a clear winter’s night—apples hard as falling
········stones
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The reddish knots to which the apple tree’s still clung finally let go—or most let go after the nor’easter’s coming through.
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img_5606
Photo by Jared Jenisch 2017 Treewritings
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The attached image is by my neighbor, Jared Jenisch, who writes every day and has been taking beautiful pictures besides. I’ve offered to include his pictures, as he provides them, along with my haiku. You can find more at his blog.
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45 February 14th 2017 | bottlecap
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