A break in the clouds—
 
how bright the winter sunlight
 
on the year’s last day!

 
 
 

Little brown sparrow,
 
the new year’s fast approaching—
 
when will you return?

 
 
 

This is the weather
 
that drives us close together:
 
frigid winter nights.

 
 
 

On a bookstore shelf
 
I find a winter poem
 
scribbled in the dust.

 
 
 

From my eager eyes,
 
clouds conceal the waxing moon—
 
Yuletide misfortune.

 
 
 

After Christmas Day,
 
missiles rain down on Ukraine—
 
the Prince of Peace weeps.

 
 
 

On Christmas morning
 
a newborn baby’s mewling
 
for his mother’s breast.

 
 
 

Surprised by an owl
 
on the night before Christmas,
 
a mouse becomes prey.

 
 
 

December’s new moon—
 
a plunge into deep darkness
 
just before Christmas

 
 
 

The darkness deepens—
 
I write some Christmas haiku
 
and then a sonnet.