January “Haiku”

seems like I am missing our willow at Montgomery Farm

maybe we need to plant one here.


January’s hair still

the willow tastes frost

its clothes at dawn


wispy cloud beards

float pensively

on the absence of breeze


Jack waits behind

the curtains of dusk

to break his curfew


ready to paint whiskers

in invisible ink

for dawn to reveal


the five o’clock shadows

lengthen time

beyond prescience


the quiet hush of birds

awaits the nightingale

the spoor vanishes


closing curtains now

against all the cold

where’s the kindling?


January’s child shivers

under clarion stars

no room at the inn