Haiku fail (March - April)

Even the birds are
lazy. Slow whistlers. The sun
creeps up, yawns pale red yawns
Half dreaming still her cool
blue dreams.
***
Dawn light: dust films patched
screens, cakes in window creases.
Birdsong pours in like water.
***
Scent of hills waking
under blue and lavender.
Down below the cliffs
urgent river gathers up
the slow hooting of a faroff train.
Delivers it, sound only
now, and lonely,
to the slow rolling to
morning shift:
stirs and twitters
rustles, shivers, new
***
Mars red, the ant heaps
wait like bombs. Invisibly
their millions, seething.
***
Joy waddles on fat unsteady
Fearless legs. Lurches into
Each dandelion
Revelation
***
Each tree echoes with
Argument. Birdchat, windchat
April is crammed with
Secrets--a constant spilling
Of thrilling beans--even
The lawnmowers are turning it over
In their low drones:
I've heard (listen!) -- Believe it!
Ringing--receiving--Really!
Incorrigible Spring!
***
Frivolous azalea
shakes out her skirts in lovestruck
thumbthick bees. Such ruffles!
Ridiculous pink!

baby

New grief sat sharp in my mouth
a thinedged stone
or broken glass

it pressed heavy on my throat
i could not swallow

Like a lost tooth
or a sore new wound
i probed it

Scraped it against my tongue until
spit and blood filled my mouth
bitter

until i learned its edges
until its edges (week by week) dissolved
in tears

sometimes i almost forget
grief worn smooth and warm
round and creamy as a pearl

i Tell it now like beads
with prayer, with thanks
this precious sweet small grief