The beginning of day eight NaHaiWriMo

From the creek’s dark slash
Following hidden shoreline
Ghosts of warmer days.

Another minus seven or eight day.

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NaHaiWriMo, Day 7

The first, a brief synopsis of yesterday, the others a reflection of what seemed a too-cold morning. Minus seven as I was leaving my house but I noticed that the car indicated a range between minus seven and plus one as I went up and down the hills between home and Schodack.

the universe says
you shall not return old gift
without a receipt.

the minus seven
slashed at my fingers today
put hands in pockets.

my car told the temps
as I drove up and down hills
zero and colder.

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Not Haiku, just what I saw.

To a woman, trying to return a book
received as a Christmas gift, having no receipt.

It’s February. A week into February.
The young cashier looks down and then at you
as he explains you need a receipt.
You refuse to accept his explanation
of a reasonable retail policy.
He leaves to fetch another
who explains the same policy again
and that this is not new by a couple years.
I stand waiting with my two books
I listen to the recitation and the protest.
Why did you wait so long to return this,
expecting to choose your own gift?
It’s a week into February woman, I think.
The holidays are long over and gone.

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Day 5, NaHaiWriMo

Guess what? In case you haven’t heard, we’re having something of a snowstorm here today.

snow leaning against
bush, fence, tires, front steps and door
silently leaning.

although the white lines
show rarely on snowy days
the lanes have not moved.

the quiet of the snow
falling still, after the plows
a distant bird call.

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The view from lunch

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