Winter's Sun

A fur fluffed squirrel

Foraging on the empty earth

Above, the pale sun.

An acorn lies still,

Winter’s store under cold earth

But rotten at core.

All around, death, sleep,

Bare branches, hungry creatures,

Under winter’s sun. 

Preservation

Take a nice flower,

Press it long between pages,

You’ve got dried compost.

Take any moment,

Press it small between pages,

You’ve got a haiku.