238/365

A cradle moon lowers in the west: soft, hazy appearance.
•
Constructing today's haiku remained difficult. Felt interference everywhere—static energy built up resistance, too many negative variables. What resulted, I almost missed noticing the lowflying hawk, she coasted to the extreme right of my path, a halfshadow darting in and out of my range of vision. And even then, afterwards, I kept waiting for a “grander” epiphany— some great lesson to fall on me from the skies. Three times around the pond and still I had not resolved an approach— until I acknowledged a the fact that a small epiphany in itself is better than none at all. I know. I know. Any moment can be twisted into poetry. Even ugly, hideous extremes of human nature. A few months ago I even discussed it in some detail with students—but every now and again I need a gentle reminder to pay closer attention to the mundane or halfformed situation, the unresolved circumstance.
•
In afternoon sun,
she skims across the surface
of wild grass: field hawk.