Because I have the luxury of not having to leave home for my work, these days between Christmas and New Year's always have an odd, timeless quality to them. And this year, with the temperature unseasonably in the fifties and green things pushing through the not yet decomposed autumn leaves, it's particularly neverwhenish in feeling. It's a time out of time, a lovely breathing space before the New Year and all those stern resolutions. Time to peruse the books that were my Christmas gifts, to eat another piece of shortbread, to look for pictures outside in this mild weather . . .
. . . and time to write a haiku.
Italian arum -
Nudging up through gray-brown leaves,
Unfurling --Ahh! -- green!
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