30 November 2024 (a crow flies through)

a crow flies through

the trees’ long shadows

morning frost

29 November 2024 (green of moss)

green of moss

through a dusting of snow

. . . three crows wait

28 November 2024 (a crow flies off)

a crow flies off

with a throat pouch full of suet

Thanksgiving rain

Happy Thanksgiving! I am very grateful for you, a reader of haiku! (And for crows, so often my muses.)

27 November 2024 (winter weather alert)

winter weather alert

a flock of crows trails

a pair of eagles

26 November 2024 (afternoon rain)

afternoon rain

a pile of packages shines

under the porch light

25 November 2024 (over the river)

over the river

and through the woods . . .

wild turkeys crowd the roadside

24 November 2024 (a winter moth)

a winter moth

at the window

late-night journaling

23 November 2024 (November rain)

November rain

the passing clouds

of our laughter

22 November 2024 (backyard crows)

backyard crows

tell it like it is

November rain

21 November 2024 (the last yellow leaves)

the last yellow leaves

backyard crows agitating

for action

20 November 2024 (with the radio on)

with the radio on

for company

waning moon