Snow fell at midnight.
 
The waxing moon was hidden.
 
You forgot my name.

 
 
 

First week of the year—
 
no snow in my yard, unless
 
you count white roses.

 
 

My next-door neighbor
 
never deadheads his roses—
 
petals fall like snow.

 
 

Unexpected snow
 
crushes my friend’s daffodils—
 
why shouldn’t she weep?

 
 
 

With its rasping voice
 
a crow shakes an inch of snow
 
from the cedar tree.

 
 
 

Deepening winter—
 
enticed by snow-free pathways,
 
I go exploring.

 
 
 

February snow—
 
how fruitless to start singing
 
cherry-blossom songs!

 
 
 

First day of the month—
 
on a patch of dirty snow
 
a blue face mask lies.

 
 
 

How persistently
 
the cardinal keeps singing,
 
urging snow to melt!

 
 
 

Save your outrage, crow,
 
for something more important
 
than the falling snow.