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STEVE ULLOM
Haiku
tree limbs blowing
forward and back in spring,
a new spell woven
the stuffed bear's eyes
never blinking as they stare
after the girl
a deer steps out
from the trees across the road
another world
migrating birds
the neighbor's back door open;
spring returns
swelling leaf buds
pulled open by the warm spring
out in the new sun
champaign bubbles
rising like prayers to heaven
for the New Year
in the windy corner
one of last year’s unused leaves
scuttles like a mouse
first butterfly:
jittery wings lifting then
discovery
the children next door
laughing and swinging their feet
to kick the sky
sudden disturbance -
the neighbor’s lawn mower starts;
a sure sign of spring
a line of ants
queued for duty
at the picnic
still December clouds
a bald eagle soars slowly
below, a hare freezes
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clear winter sky
the color of ice
in sunlight
thick overnight fog
the neighbor's porch lights floating
like forgotten ghosts