. . . ending the year as I began it, with haiku

this oak-paneled path

quiet as a library

where old leaves are turned

     waiting patiently

     sniffing each cantaloupe too

     the blind woman's dog

kite snagged all autumn

on a willow branch is gone

first day of winter

     breaking the silence

     suddenly all the hailstones

     fall at the same time

late leaving the woods

above the winter corn field

suddenly the moon

     watching the sparrows

     the cat sharpening his claws

     on the pine tree's trunk

so much is revealed

by the lifting of a stone

to find the poem