discovering the door

tiny hands push it

staring eyes are awed to see

walls swinging open

Out of the house

In a silent room

It's very good for working . . .

I wish I was home

Accordian Practice

In, out, push and pull

I'm breathing with each push-pull

quick quick s-l-o-w push-pulls

reward time

Twenty-four students,

sharing forty computers

for thirty minutes

Quiet house

Christie is napping.

Callie is napping now too.

Why don't I join them?

Paperwork

Slow and steady growth

but when I'm not watching it

the pile grows faster

Both come from the trees

But why is this one growing

when money doesn't?

The Page Turner

Questions in my head

Can they really trust that man?

Can I trust myself?

It was in my hands,

but after I put it down,

it is in my head

While in her high chair

Yes you may watch me

but I have my cracker now

don't bother me . . . (yum)

What she seems to say

Palm on the tray . . . Slap!

Slap! . . . I want a cracker . . . Slap!

Bring it faster . . . Slap!

teeth

Callie's brand new teeth

Two on the bottom showing

Is this good or bad?

A general overview of Christie's thoughts:

puppies puppies farm

livestock garden Callie Jim

puppies puppies home

after a disappointment

I raise up my hopes

unknown, even to myself,

felled twice, rising thrice . . .

aquaintances

Came nine months later

saw one old friend, but missed three . . .

must go back again

accelerated

Starting out, I run

I've been figuring this out

I can slow down now

At times . . .

Holding the baby

may be light as her laughter

or heavy as time

I'm wondering too . . .

Limericks are fun

I guess this seems more profound

thoughtful . . . not silly

noticed while mending

Mine: small but uneven

Hers: bigger but neat

We are diff-er-ent.

in case you wondered.

So Why the Haiku?

I read some, and now they are

quick to form and post

moving in

In a new place now . . .

but it is new until when?

unpacking drags on.

get to the point

When something is short,

it is easy to run out

of room before you . . .

writing past my bedtime

I see six fish float

I wonder what to write here . . .

but now I am done