Spring snow:
the night before, I woke
to the sound of swans
Spring snow:
the spicebush outside my window
captures more & more of the sky
Spring snow:
one mourning dove adds
an extra half-note
Spring snow:
the soft ground sinks
under my boots
Spring snow:
last year’s stalks of Oswego tea
don fresh caps
Spring snow:
whitewashed walls of a springhouse
look anything but white
Spring snow
clinging to every twig
trunks glow green with lichen
Spring snow:
the black cat crouches
beside a vole’s burrow
Spring snow
on budding maples:
faint blush of pink
Spring snow
covers up the letters
on a “No Trespassing” sign
Spring snow:
the woods won’t be this dark again
until early summer
Spring snow:
soft thumps as it drops off the trees,
water loud in the creek
UPDATE: Thanks to Ivy Alvarez for suggesting a change in the first haiku (“I woke” instead of “I had awoken”).