Blueberry Haiku

Picking blueberries

Plump purple pearls pile and pour

I’m rich in blue gold!

New Calendar

All the days ahead,

Spilled out in neat little rows.

Each one knows its place.

How compact and succinct!

The whole year staring up at me,

Each number peering expectantly

Like puppies in a pet shop,

Each hoping to be special.

It’s almost scandalous to see the future,

To know ahead of time

That, say, on October 12^th

I’ll be up to my ears in Monday.

Which days will shake history?

Which will find me on the couch

With tea and cat and knitting yarn?

This calendar will not tell

Until I look back on it from the next one.

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