dVerse Poetics — In January

Crimson wings cast weak shadows on russet fluffs still standing from once-sunny goldenrod; they clump, the mangy fur of a hungry coyote lost from its pack. Limp, muted green mats of still grass fill the spaces, where deer lie, hide to hide, in their warm rests until Venus nightly beckons from her speckled black bowl….

dVerse Haibun Monday on January 2023

Over the Christmas weekend we had our first big blizzard and I was snowed in until the day after. We gathered on the twenty-seventh. The grandbaby passed out gifts and watched as each was opened. At one point, she crawled into my lap and put her head on my shoulder, a first. New Year’s Eve…