Pink

fallen blossom
wheels in the chill wind -
pink snowstorm

Haiku

haiku hang
from the ceiling - words
blossom in space

Not

Frosty night -
apparently it's not
Spring yet.

Bulk

My keyring's lost
its familiar bulk -
only two left.

Beyond

Flat wet day -
beyond this, the shape
of things to come.

New

the sign reads:
get ready for a new
kind of place

Fog

What does the fog
conceal? Could be
anything.

Leaving

Don't like leaving,
even when
I want to go.

Crying

Frosted rooves,
the persistent crying
of a single bird.

Where

Bare walls again
where Vermeer and Rothko
kept me company.

Netbook

small shiny blue
it pleases the magpie
in me

Float

White light -
the city floats,
pastel pale.

Disappear

White foot disappears
beneath a big black car -
cat wants some peace.

Spit

Phew. It felt hard to keep this up through February: gather reluctant words like saliva in a dry mouth and... spit. But the practice seemed therefore all the more worthwhile.