Where goes the clock's time?
The brevity of life, quick
The blink of an eye

The bee makes honey
Golden treat for lips and tongue
Odd to be our foe

One that's been loved
Can survive a cold world
A despised soul cannot

Winter makes it sleep
Summer sun, power to parch
Spring, victorious

The Wind is fickle
A mighty blowhard so fierce
A soft, puny puff

Trees (haiku #1)

Tree wood with fire
Nature equips survival   
Light, heat, and cooking

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Trees (haiku #2)

Leafy beings, green
Wood umbrellas, ancient roots
Growing, reaching sky

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Trees (haiku #3)

Pluck the tender fruit
Motherly branches feed all
Body and soul, blessed

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Trees (haiku #4)

Shelter for our homes
Furniture within our walls
Uses-myriads

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Trees (haiku #5)

Pencils, books, paper
Education thanks to trees
Writing, poetry

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Trees (haiku #6)

Trees crafted, songs sung
Guitars, violins, harps-more
Wood, melodious

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Trees ( haiku #7)

Birds, critters depend
Harmonious relations
Trees magical grace

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Trees (haiku #8)

Bountiful beauty
Standing upright or chopped down
More precious than gold

— and from basement entries
neatly coiffed, middle aged gentlemen
with orderly moustaches and
well-brushed coats

I'm no real
thing

some flash of
magical realism
-the force but not
the subject-

existence in the
vibrations and singing
of mushi, but not exactly
becoming those
tufts of light fully

The wind does not knock
though it be a lonely soul.
It turns, goes back home