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Issue #135, Skiing from one season to the next: Indian Peaks Wilderness, James Peak Wilderness, and the Boulder Farmers' Market, April, 2007. Haiku by Krista Morien, Sanjay Rajan, Patrick Lynn, David Harper, and Jonathan Machen.

i turn my hat to follow
the sound but just see
the inside of my parka hood

growing happy
as the snow falls
the silence deepens

would rather have
haiku mind
than haiku

moffat tunnel
spring snow storm
blowing horizontal

group of three
guys heading off
with pack and shovel

skiing from
one season
into the next

spring announced
in blustery language
gloves knocked over in wind

like an old man
with scraggily moss goatee
dead branch waving in wind

weathered woman
with close-cropped black hair says,
"it's nice to get out of the wind"

at nine thousand nine thirty-one
passing three guys
with two pairs of skins

at ten thousand fifty-three
familiar place covered in snow
becomes wild again

ten thousand one-seventy three
hearing river ice below
seeing only snow

ten thousand six hundred and four
stopping by unique branch
in forest full of unique branches

eleven thousand one hundred ten
think i'll head down again
past the snowshoers

distracted by
the cutest baby
i've ever seen

floating empty
bottle of vitamin water
bereft of nutrition

giving myself license
to simply sit
in the grass and stare

hanging baskets
discovering life
outside the greenhouse

early morning sun
shadow extra tall
egyptian cat

hawaiian slide
and green ants
all together now

man's concrete interventions
hold the bank together
where cottonwoods don't

afraid to put my food down
after the insistent girl
showed me green ants

freckles lettuce
and baby shallots peeking
from salad nursery

mid april
we chat
portland and boulder

walk through
talk snippets
conversation montage

acoustic jazz
muted by creek rock friction
makes a new tune

even the "disarm
bush" man finds someone to talk to
at the farmers' market

abundance of form
at farmers' market
i retreat to creek

yielding to peds
until i realize
i'm a ped

parsnips and radishes
wag their tails
when you pick them up

mornin' chai
three hours late
mind long awake

spring market
watching shoes go by
precariously balancing bodies

twisted leg
and pointy nose
girl talk over coffee

gray skies
collude with hats
and chocolate treats

perched creekside
smooth water roll over the dam
waiting for the one-hundred year flood

dandelion blossom
knows nothing of weeds
but is an expert on yellow

the sprout guy resorts
to russian theatrics to sell
sprouted brazil nuts

tightly clutching her
plastic orange tiger
she wheels through crowd

like i collect teacups
this eddy collects precious
styrofoam peanuts

cartwheel practice
in a dandelion patch
yellow hands

frozen on the
bike path by a man
with no brakes

bustle and jostle
genetically similar
coffee-seeking shoppers

"i think i was annoyed with her
'cause she was yelling at me
for not being there more often.
she's right."

stepping out of the stream
watching my fellow earthlings
pass by in all their glory

mole' fix
nice start
to market visit

walking upright
still a challenge
for munchkins

market patrons
practice sense multi-tasking
in negotiating traffic

strolling and chewing
greens hanging from their mouths
first farmers' market

arugula good in mouth
but not so good
in haiku

having studied the art
of floating for years
the branch drops in

another season
the newspaper lady
dancing with the daily news

solo/group kukai
jonathan machen