For Maia

The window's closed,

but I hear birds. Maybe

they're discussing Spring.

A Sorta Kinda Haiku & a Sorta Kinda Tanka

Night comes, and
those little yellow flowers
have closed up shop.


-------


Tufts of green with
those little yellow flowers,
settled in the cracks
between pieces of gray cement--
and people call them weeds!

Poppies in March

Yellow flowers closed
to a gray, threatening sky.
Roots drink; petals grow.

To You, in Particular

Shades of eyes shuttered--
you can look inside, but it's
all closed off to you.