Shroud

Photo © 2017 Jennifer Wagner

Each season has its own offering.  Spring buds.  Summer glows.  Autumn colors.  Winter shrouds.  In winter, we hold contradictions up to the waning light, swirl them round the glass, sip.  Our losses are bettered in this reflection, when we can begin to see what good comes even after the fissured earth cracks again, when what remains softens, fills.

how silent now

this path strewn with jagged stones

a softening of snow

© 2017 Jennifer Wagner

Monotony

I’ll admit it.  It doesn’t feel much like love when I’m doing it.  Laying out bread, layering meat, cheese, lettuce.  Slicing apples.  Refilling water bottles.  Granola bars.  Crackers.  Daily packing lunches to be eaten by hungry kids the next day just feels like a task.  And one I often feel like not doing.  But that’s love, isn’t it?  And my kids never wonder if and when they will get their next meal.  Never.  With tears, I am grateful for this privilege I dismiss as monotonous duty.

the happiest chirp

at the freshly filled feeder

humbled, I’m quickened

© 2016 Jennifer Wagner

For dVerse Haibun Monday:  Quotidian

Note:  I believe my haiku to be classified as more of a senryu since it includes the human element with nature/season.  Thanks for reading!