Until recently, I hadn’t written any poetry for quite awhile. Then we got this sudden cold and snow, which I am totally not used to, and almost every time I looked out the window or stepped out the door, I was struck by a haiku moment.

On one of the coldest nights, my dog went outside for a quick visit to the backyard. When I opened the door to let him back in, I stood for a moment, caught by the smell of the cold, the closeness of the sky, the breath of the house billowing out into the night…. lines of haiku began to form and reform in my mind, so that I had a hard time getting to sleep after that.

sharp scent of cold air

clouds drift out the open door

absorbed by stillness

gathering close

pale sky touches white trees

hushed in snow

And from the next day:

icicles drip

decorating eaves troughs

warmed by house breath

during the cold snap

rats take refuge in my attic

the cat’s ears twitch

Haiku is supposed to contain 17 syllables in lines of 5-7-5, but I don’t think it matters if you follow that exactly. What matters is the moment shared. Anyone else care to share a moment?

In my November 29 post, “haiku snapshot,” I included a poem about a crow:

black shape on white snow

fathomless as a deep hole

until the crow caws

In the comments, my friend Jean-Pierre, who has lived in Japan for over 15 years, translated my haiku into Japanese:

Yuki ni yurei

 Fukai ana soko nashi

 Karasu naku

When he translated it back to English again, it came out:

Ghost in the snow

Deep hole no bottom

Crow cries

creating a totally different poem. Check out Jean-Pierre’s comment for more details about the translation process.