“A Few Haiku (28)”

(c) 2022 by Michael L. Utley

(#163)

old apples
frozen to the ground
the silent orchard

…..

(#164)

juniper berries
blue sky’s children nestle
in cedar cradles

…..

(#165)

my horse is old
and my cart is broken
the depths of winter

…..

(#166)

winter granary
rice sacks are empty
and spring may never come

…..

(#167)

thoughtless chickadees
bear the winter’s burden
while I succumb

…..

(#168)

in the evening snow
hare tracks on the mountain path
silent, soon to fade

33 thoughts on ““A Few Haiku (28)”

    1. Thanks, Grace. It’s only 5:07 a.m. here but you’ve already made my day! I was so unsure of #168 and fretted over it for a couple of hours. I’m glad you saw something it that I missed. Much appreciated. πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, Mark. Growing up on the farm, there was an apple tree outside my bedroom window. It was sickly looking most of the time and only bore fruit–tiny green apples–for a few seasons, then began to wither away. I have a poem about it here on my blog. I wish we’d had an orchard growing up. There was an old abandoned apple orchard a few miles north of the farm and we picked some once. Apples are so iconic to farm life and country living. Glad you liked this one. πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

    1. I love chickadees. On the farm where I grew up, I called them “snow-hoppers” since they bopped around on the ground as they sought after food. It was so delightful seeing all those little black and gray dots against the stark white of the snow. I like the thought of their endurance and obliviousness to the trials of winter, hence shouldering the burden, while I seem unable to persevere through the cold months.

      Like

  1. “my horse is old
    and my cart is broken
    the depths of winter”

    “in the evening snow
    hare tracks on the mountain path
    silent, soon to fade”

    Your poetic crystal ball has scryed my existence. I am clearly the horse, the cart is obviously my life, and my future is the hare tracks fading in the depth of winter. I am destined to become Jack Nicholson at the end of “The Shining.”

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Well, join the club, Rhyan! These two haiku are definitely autobiographical and I have precisely the same sentiments about them as you do. Sometimes life really does feel like one big snowed-in Overlook Hotel. πŸ˜€ I’ve actually been to Estes Park, CO (the location of this hotel, whose real-life name is the Stanley Hotel) but never actually saw the hotel (maybe that’s a good thing?). I suppose both of us can hope for an early thaw and a proliferation of wild flowers to guide us along the mountain path. Always glad to read your reviews, good sir. Thanks so much for reading and commenting. πŸ™‚

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s