Haiku for April 11

I didn’t publish a haiku here yesterday, which is just how it goes sometimes. As it happened, I did find a haiku moment–noticed a collection of dirt mounds across the road from my house, where the ferns will soon grow, and realized in a flash, as I drove by, that the ferns were growing that very second, pushing up the dirt over their fiddleheads, making the little mounds that had caught my eyes. But later, home again and notebook opened, the moment wouldn’t fit into just seventeen syllables. Which is just how it goes sometimes.

Before bed, though, a different sparkly moment, under a cold sky and over the crunchy spring snow, and that moment became this morning’s haiku …

bringing the dog out
before bed; the sound of snow
under his slippers

I hope you find some haiku moments today.