junk mail the stick nest of wrens in the bluebird's house

candles and flashlights the scent of rain all around us

thunderstorm warning our house a blue dot in the red zone

brain fog my eyes a bloodshot roadmap of everything I've read

friday's meeting one foot of the park bench in the floodwater

Rainy Day Landscape

small hailstones linger around the toppled irises

may day a child snatching a maple seed from midair

spring break our contrails cross

thursday's mold count more than my yearly income

the unplanted corn the flooded fields the idle farms

sandbags becoming part of the landscape

squirrel fitness center a downed tree with a bird feeder

cold front the politician I trusted untrustworthy

rainy day rampage the rivers rage on

art class none of us paint like van gogh

Found Haiku

(I'm not sure if these were used in forgotten sequences or ones I never used or posted.)

lighthouse signal the drizzle of rain on my glasses
spring equinox his eye level with the marble
slow-down heat the turtle shows me how to get along
tv unplugged a guitar with some conversation
pre-birthday jitters I hide all the candles
darkness of winter with one less cloud to decipher
city stoplight one road turns into another
nowhere to somewhere how the trip starts
mom's memoirs the shoebox letters with cedar shavings
away from heidelberg the snow falling in the black forest

At Least Someone Knows How To Tweet

spring prayer in the name of the mother, child, and holy ghost
kidnapped girl's escape the hero with ill-fitting shoes and courage
mlk's dream defiled by the walls of prejudice
2020 elections I stock up on tums and ibuprofen
winter fluke how else could the LA rams win
red-shouldered hawk settling on the tallest sycamore
quiet mode I retreat inside another book
a tree bud's faith the days are getting longer
lake ice a couple of herons pairing up by the spillway
snow melt and other sources of inspiration
a chickadee's twitter at least someone knows how to tweet