“He’s Back”

Snow“He’s Back”

The rustle of cold colors whirl and shout

and in their dance, a warning to revere.

A halo’s on the mountain tops about

and breezy waves of solemn shades appear.

Soft yellows made among gray clouds, aloft

and whisper to the shiv`ring wintry scene:

“I am the cold, blue howl that bellows oft

and scurries down your icy, trickling stream”.

Then comes insanity; bold groans below

among  the forest faces painted white.

I hear the branch’s thoughts that break; bestow

a heaviness of heart in fading light.

Here burns the ghost of winter’s bleak return;

repetitive, yet for our souls we yearn.

Wintry Haiku

ice dripWintry Haiku

One, last, drop of ice
slips the fingertips of roof
falls to nothingness.

Frozen Tanka

One, last, hushed, droplet…

Surrenders its final breath,

Ice crystals melted…

Mutterings of winged things

Push pale winter into spring.