December 31, 2009

Syllables counted,

events noted, and thoughts caught

in an ancient net.

2009 and

Haiku Whereareu, good-bye.

Thanks for all the fish.

December 29, 2009

A cup of hot tea,

a spoonful of sugar, and

no reason to move.

December 28, 2009

Haiku in a blog;

old wine, new cask. We've drunk and

passed the glass around.

December 25, 2009

This year's Book of Life

draws closed, names dropped and added,

still in full color.

December 22, 2009

Daylight one minute

longer, one more tomorrow.

Spring sprouts in the dark.

December 18, 2009

Shortly shortest day.

Plug in lights and turn up heat,

wait for dark's retreat.

December 15, 2009

Morning stillness here,

but tumult rages elsewhere.

Fire surrounding stone.

December 11, 2009

The year winds down, but

energy levels wind up.

Flurries predicted.

December 1, 2009

Stroke of twelve. Just time

for a final waltz before

the pumpkin rolls home.

November 30, 2009

Thanksgiving 2009

The ions, spinning,

charged, split from their molecule,

briefly rebond back.

November 24, 2009

Recipes, menu,

flow chart to guide troop movement.

Assault on T-Day.

November 23, 2009

One weight spread wings, flew.

Another ebbed like the tide.

I, buoyant, float up.

November 18, 2009

A friend's visit makes

me lonesome for passers-by

to welcome back home.

November 17, 2009

Done pile neatly stacked.

Only a conclusion left

on the to-do pile.

November 16, 2009

Leaves accumulate.

Pounds, bills accumulate, too.

Just time slips away.

November 13, 2009

Friday the 13th

Bad luck arrives late,

spooks gone, rain finally stopped.

Move on. You missed out.

November 12, 2009

Hibernation day.

Rain and manuscript pages.

Music without words.

November 11, 2009

Veterans Day 2009

Text on "use of force"

reads abstract, bloodless, while rain

falls on countless graves.

November 10, 2009

Moment's illusion:

kids, moms well; deadlines distant;

tea sweet; breeze still warm.

November 9, 2009

Bees dance their vectors,

we leave Post-It notes instead

to describe our paths.

November 6, 2009

Picking up the pen

tickles, but putting it down

leaves my hands empty.

October 27, 2009

My second teenhood,

wanting only the freedom

that will never come.

October 26, 2009

Leaves float down as I

turn my manuscript pages,

each just letting go.

October 21, 2009

Phillip off to work,

guitar not briefcase in hand,

music in his head.

October 20, 2009

Bright autumn skies viewed

from the basement over a

bright computer screen.

October 19, 2009

Lines and pages stacked.

Editing now in earnest.

Deadline approaches.

October 15, 2009

Cold rain and warm stove

simmering stew and soup pots,

warmth from inside out.

October 14, 2009

Houseplants, moved indoors

like children called to their naps,

stare out the window.

October 8, 2009

Ready to receive.

We are ready to depart.

Comings and goings.

October 7, 2009

Trees behind the school

have learned their autumn lessons.

Best stop on the red.

October 6, 2009

One pound of taffy
makes me happy. Eli, you
better hurry home.

October 6, 2009

My cup runs over,

but still I thirst for something

that's not in bottles.

September 25, 2009

Here I am--a cry

from Job and me, still ready

but waiting, waiting.

September 24, 2009

Blank pages to fill.

Full pages to empty out.

I am shovel, sieve.

September 23, 2009

For Alan Berg

My friend feels the weight

of years spent striving to change

a world eons old.

September 22, 2009

How did I cope with

work, school, kids, when now I blanche

at a few e-mails?

September 21, 2009

Walk on the High Line.

Anna's path on a clear day.

Miles still to be built.

September 17, 2009

Off soon to New York.

Anna will take care of me,

reversing our roles.

September 16, 2009

New mattress arrives

to soothe Phil's back by sleeping

at high altitude.

September 15, 2009

Lunch chat: How's work? Are

you having fun? I mustn't

gloat in my good luck.

September 11, 2009

One of many days,

remembered or forgotten,

full of tragedy.

September 10, 2009

How do days fill up?

Without the faucet of work

new chances rain down.

September 9, 2009

A day of doctors

is enough to make you sick.

Check up and check out.

September 8, 2009

Schools open, summer

recedes, more marks in the sand,

a friend remembered.

September 4, 2009

Delicious leisure,

the tastiest sauce of all.

A Labor Day picnic.

September 3, 2009

A melody hums.

Words come and go to fit. That's

how time opens up.

September 1, 2009

Any change calls out

to us sitting still on the

end of summer bench.

August 28, 2009

Even while damp heat

wraps its turban on my head,

ice still grips my thoughts.

August 21, 2009

Another round of

the carousel. Family

is my golden ring.

August 20, 2009

Thirty seven years

passed day by day, good and bad,

but mostly so good.

August 19, 2009

A long-time dream of

comfort and independence

awakes wrapped in gauze.

August 18, 2009

Like Inuits, we

pass days insulated in

our summer igloo.

August 17, 2009

Dog lying on porch,

husband on sofa,

panting out dog days.

August 14, 2009

Oscar's strong legs meet

bright plastic, flashing lights, springs,

and then head skyward.

August 13, 2009

August slouches home

wrapped in its long underwear

and sweaty flip flops.

August 10, 2009

Songs still resonate

after guitars and banjos

are back in their case.

July 31, 2009

Bills in envelopes,

laundry sloshing in washer

at both ends of trip.

July 30, 2009

Many bags half sewn.

Patterns set, cloth cut, but yet

none carries a tune.

July 29, 2009

Scuffle in the dark.

We inside heard some noises,

but hadn't a clue.

Morning calm revealed

a still small furry body

and a dog with scratch.

July 28, 2009

The groove of routines:

training, walking, and cooking

all have their rhythms.

July 27, 2009

Working vacation,

now back to leisure with hope

of something new to say.

June 30, 2009

Phillip and Oscar

Mornings at the gym,

then a full in-box to check,

no wonder they nap.

June 29, 2009

Peace triumphs at last

as Oscar, tired of his play,

surrenders to sleep.

June 28, 2009

One click at a time,
Eight hundred digital files
help close the distance.

June 25, 2009

Who said summer was

lazy? Friction of comings,

goings makes the heat.

June 23, 2009

Now summer holds forth,

in the spotlight of long days

and evening fireflies.

June 22, 2009

Wry smiles, furrowed brows, 

expressions worthy of a

master mime--Oscar!

June 16, 2009

Make way for hot fudge.

The emperor of ice cream

reigns supreme today.

June 15, 2009

Hours before the screen

done at last. Files edited.

Lights out. Click and send!

June 12, 2009

Knee deep in muddy

manuscript and the big fool (me)

says keep pushing on.

June 11, 2009

Marriage of best friends.
Flowers. Dresses. Rings. Deep breaths,
friendship not over.

June 11, 2009

Tom Simkin, 1934-2009

Sight of him lifted

my spirits: bearded giant,

wry, watchful, steadfast. 

June 10, 2009

Tatum's piano

keeps me company. He adds

notes while I cross out.

June 9, 2009

Back door is open

for flies to buzz the skylight.

They press against blue

And beat wings on glass.

I find them the next morning

dead on the table.

Breakfast reminders

that sometimes things don't work out

exactly as planned.

 

June 4, 2009

One swell youth remains

in a family that has 

lost it. Go, Sarah!

Happy Birthday, Sarah

June 4, 2009

June is set to bust

a move. Tell the rain, work, blues--

their time gotta be gone.

May 28, 2009

not just anyone
is semi-legendary.
happy birthday, dad!

May 29, 2009

Bunch of happiness.

Bunch of May celebrations.

All Rosen-Powers.

Happy Anniversary, Kim and Eli!

May 28, 2009

Compared with mountains,

pools of oil, sequoia trees,

you're still a baby.

Happy Birthday, Phillip!

May 27, 2009

No more party hats

or gooey cake. Nonetheless,

light a candle, E!

Happy Birthday, Eli.

May 26, 2009

Soft static of rain

broadcasting from the night roof.

My weather channel.

May 23, 2009

Sentence by sentence,

I run my lawnmower through

weedy manuscript.

May 22, 2009

Singing in  the dark,

first bird tells me just how much

I will miss this life.

May 21, 2009

Hours in the car,

songs blaring, then turn them off

to hear my new one.

May 20, 2009

Colette's MRIs

take hours and leave her stiff, scared,

but still positive.

May 19, 2009

Haiku: ancient form

of Twitter for kimono-

wearing editors.

May 18, 2009

Warm little bundle

of Oscar, wiggling, smiling.

Long days but short months. 

May 14, 2009

All of a sudden

it's my friends talking about

all their health problems.

May 13, 2009

Soon to see Oscar,

Eli, Kim. maybe Anna.

Who has grown the most?

May 12, 2009

Floor swept, dog sleeping,

Phillip playing his guitar.

A domestic song.

May 11, 2009

The day passed without

lightning bolt or idea

fit for poetry.

May 8, 2009

What is that burning

orb in a sky turned bright blue?

Aren't all clouds gray?

May 7, 2009

Newspaper gets thinner

whether news is good or bad.

Fewer ads, less ink.

May 6, 2009

Some subatomic

nit must vibrate on and off

like me day and night.

May 5, 2009

Straighten the blankets,

pillows, papers. Tomorrow

straighten them again.

May 4, 2009

Photo of me, 2,

hands gripping playpen, mouth clenched,

eyes open. Still true.

May 1, 2009

Mayday! Signaling

distress and dismay in May

over four months flown.

April 30, 2009

The garden center

sells beauty, order, and hope.

Plants are just the means.

April 29, 2009

Spreading mulch today.

Like a new coat of wall paint,

it covers the dirt.

April 28, 2009

Like plants in our yard

we are rooted here. Like birds

we still want to fly.

April 27, 2009

Elevation of 

temperature, pollen count.

Descent to summer.

April 25, 2009

Good advice from Dr. John:

Everything I do

gon' be funky from now on.

Everything I do.

April 24, 2009

For Alan Berg

Whatever the meal,

good friend and conversation

make the nutrition.

April 23, 2009

A plain, front-yard shrub,

for decades unnoteworthy,

cradles two blue eggs.

April 22, 2009

4 AM. Bill knocks

politely at morning's door:

Please let me come in.

April 21, 2009

The road, wide and straight,

quickly slopes away, narrows,

and leads off the map.

April 20, 2009

Dark morning quiet

remembers the winter's chill

birds sing to forget.

April 17, 2009

In Anna's New York,

her studio, her paintings,

her emerging world.

April 16, 2009

Limbs spread across bed

or tuck tight, glad they are not

straight in a coffin.

April 15, 2009

Tax day, gray sky, cold 

rain and viruses abound. 

Unsung side of spring.

April 14, 2009

Spring rain, cold and gray,

puddles under red tulips,

yellow daffodils.

April 13, 2009

Oscar Red Sox fan?

In nature versus nurture,

nurture triumphs here.

April 10, 2009

Bill Frisell Trio last night

Melodies splinter

and swell in loops and layers

between jazz and noizz.

April 9, 2009

A sudden growth spurt.
More eating, sleeping, crying.
Six-month sizes soon?

April 9, 2009

Fall mulch dusted off.

Flower beds scoured and polished.

Dirty spring cleaning.

April 8, 2009

Old shirts weeded out.

New ones come wrapped like seed packs.

Cultivated ground.

April 7, 2009

Cast blankets away.

Fling flannel sheets and nightshirts.

Make beds of petals.

April 6, 2009

Cars on the highway,

students at desks, dogs sniffing.

Mondays are busy.

April 3, 2009

Nitrogen shows clear

in earth's thick atmosphere, but

green in thin grass blades.

April 2, 2009

Bulbs send up their flags,

semaphores announcing, World,

I'm here, here, here, here. 

April 1, 2009

Weeds, the teenagers

already at puberty

in cold early spring.

March 31, 2009

Dog sleeping on porch,

husband sleeping on sofa,

my eyelids closing.

March 30, 2009

Spring break is over.

Wind and rain blowing again,

words and buds hidden.

March 17, 2009

Many thousand steps

through streets, tunnels, avenues,

to meet in New York.

March 11, 2009

Bill and Phil head west

for music and open fields.

Car full of guitars.

March 11, 2009

Oscar's now smiling.

He's learning his life is good.

That makes us smile, too.

March 10, 2009

Upside down, backwards,

inside out. The direct path to

sew a litle bag.

March 9, 2009

March transforms to lamb

within days. Lions break out

their shorts and flip-flops.

March 6, 2009

Sitting together

in the car, radio soft,

miles rolling on. Sweet!

March 5, 2009

New cabinet doors

lipstick for the old kitchen

dressing up to dance.

March 4, 2009

Bill's familiar walk

now terra incognito.

Snow on his best spots.

March 3, 2009

Thin mints (two boxes).
Post-partum weight loss be damned!
Can't resist cookies.

March 3, 2009

For Emily

Work is always there,

lists and deliverables,

but play must be found.

March 2, 2009

Road to hell covered

in snow. Intentions to go

to gym lie below.

March 1, 2009

Weekends with best friends.

Much needed and missed greatly.

Smiles. Laughter. Food.

February 27, 2009

Back to work, briefly.
Pen? Check. Photos of kid? Check.
Laptop? Check. Brain? Brain?

February 25, 2009

Fifteen reps, minutes,

laps around the gym. Three hands

needed for counting.

February 24, 2009

My Japanese friend,

Miwako, cheers our haikus.

She may post one, too. 

February 23, 2009

Young son, learning words

at the zoo, says that his shoes

are cages for his feet.

February 20, 2009

Plants send out their roots.

Blood vessels, too, grow, connect.

We send bits and bytes.

might is write

bird up on high, coo;
defrosted buds pop open.
freedom of life, new.

Why we write

Burden of haiku

We write prayers to please ourselves

Freedom of haiku

February 19, 2009

Kept awake, not by

babies, mayhem, illness, strife,

but just ideas.

February 18, 2009

Drips from a faucet

or firehose spray of words,

poetry is wet.

February 17, 2009

Blanket of chill air

and sheets of brown fallen leaves

cover pillowed seeds.

February 16, 2009

Expanse of Monday,

the week still lying ahead,

is that good or bad?

February 14, 2009

One month ago now.
Feels like it’s been a lifetime.
For you, kid, it has.

February 14, 2009

"Poor man's lobster," eh?
"Poor man's pork fat" is more apt.
Monkfish is not good.

February 13, 2009

The heart enlarges

over time. Doctors worry.

Lovers know better.

February 13, 2009

Can't bear to listen.
Local NPR pledge drive,
will you ever end?

February 12, 2009

The rhythm of tea:

leaf scoop, kettle fill and boil.

Morning symphony.

February 11, 2009

Rachel Ray, watch out!

Our video will show how

to make apple pie.

February 10, 2009

Tips, tricks, and shortcuts

of my new cell phone make me

miss ink, pen, paper. 

February 9, 2009

Get out of jail free.

Most things cost, but some come just

by luck of the draw.

February 6, 2009

four generations
under one little roof will
gather and frolic

February 5, 2009

Garden is quiet 

in winter's chill. Quiet is

prologue, epilogue.

February 4, 2009

We cook all morning

to offer nourishment to

those hungry for sleep.

February 3, 2009

Haiku jag grounded

by snow and disconnection.

Must plug in again.

January 29, 2009

Northeast corridor.

We're among the line of ants

coming and going.

The call came early,
the voice sang "No school today".
The thrill of much snow!

snow, ice, wintry mix,
claustrophobic tundra angst,
middle age, laid off.

January 28, 2009

Shell of snow and ice

hardens on roads, lawns, and plans.

We won't hatch just yet.

January 27, 2009

So impossible

to believe in straw sandals

during a snowstorm.

January 26, 2009

Watching gentle snow,

I see the blur of a hawk

change the backyard mood.

January 24, 2009

This day, twenty four,
common to our families
and generations.

paul's haiku

chimichangas, yeah

burritos are good also

chimichangas, yeah

January, 24, 2009

never did make it
outdoors yesterday, oscar.
hope springs eternal?

January 24, 2009

crazy year, anna
but couldn't forget to send
birthday wishes, love

January 23, 2009

Fifty-five degrees:
predicted high for today.
We'll go for a stroll.

January 23, 2009

Quarter century

soon among Anna's fractions.

The glass, still half full.

January 22, 2009

Cotton flannel sheets,

wool blankets. Winter flora

and fauna in bed.

January 21, 2009

All the week's changes.

Pebbles cast in the ocean

still ripple the waves.

January 20, 2009

Barack Obama

once a baby like Oscar.

What greatness ahead?

January 19, 2009

Martin Luther King

once a baby like Oscar.

What greatness ahead?

My own young on stage
in my role from yesterday:
her own matinee.

Named well for Haiku
Oscar Neil Rosen-Powers
Syllables perfect

He's likely to be
The only one in his class
Our Master Oscar

Perfectly precious

Precious baby boy
fits so perfectly in our
arms to hold and love

January 16, 2009

They come home today,

one more passage for all three

to a wider world.

January 15, 2009

From Chapel Hill

Oscar's DNA

and little limbs wound tightly

in double helix.

Kim and Eli, too,

wound tight now as DNA,

spiral together.

Genes and molecules

flow on, giving a taste of

life ever after.

Beads on a long string.

Mine between Colette, Anna,

Now a new bead is strung.

Oscar Neil Rosen
Baby bundle eager soul
Immediate love

January 14, 2009

The moment at hand!

Surprise and hope overwhelm

all words and routines.

Later:

One is not enough

for overflowing feelings,

momentous events:

Inside to outside,

path of so many before,

yet new again now. 

'merican idol
save me from myself; sucked in,
welcome mindlessness

January 13, 2009

How 'bout some ice cream:
Haagen-Dazs Peppermint Bark?
Only if I must.

January 13, 2009

Eli assembles

a crib, Phillip,  a new desk,

preparing to play.

January 12, 2009

Night out. Not counting

calories, pennies, minutes.

Fiddling. What's burning?

By Sarah Rosen

It's Laura's Birthday

It's time to hip and hooray

No longer a teen.

- Sarah Rosen

Twenty years of life.

Today starts a new decade.

Where does the time go?

January 11, 2009

And now Laura's turn
for birthday wishes from far.
Eat a slice for us!

January 10, 2009

I'm large and in charge,
but soon the kid will be boss.
Not much longer now....

Aimed into a ditch
Are we by Blagojevich
Crooked son of a

January 9, 2009

Birthday wishes flow.
Thank you for thinking of me.
Fills my heart with joy.

January 9, 2009 pt 2

big weekend ahead.
playfriends, maybe, but cribs will
be assembled, yes!

January 9, 2009

Excellent to see

in seventeen syllables

so many postings.

Thank you, family!

Each message inflates this small

balloon and lifts it.

This is just a test
I have not done this before
Bear with me for now

Happy birthday, Em!
We hope you have a great day,
wish we could join you!

January 8, 2009

Walking round the track

like a sweeping second hand

counting the ticks.

January 7, 2009

Overflowing bag.

You must build it in your mind

before filling it.

January 6, 2009

Cold rain falls outside.

Hot shower inside. Cheers for

civilization.

January 5, 2009

Japanese masters

took brush to scroll. My haikus

make do with scroll bar.

January 2, 2009

Morning clouds arrive

wearing pink and purple,

ladies at the dance.

Next posting on Monday, Jan. 5.

January 1, 2009

Momentous changes

on the calendar pages,

but days just flow on.