Well, y’all, I am beside myself. An owl arrived in our owl box today! We’ve had a box for five or six years, and this is our third owl; in other words, the odds are good but not at all guaranteed.

These are brave and curious little Eastern Screech-Owls. They look like tree bark, only cuter (sorry, trees) and they’re out surveying the place at daybreak and dusk. When the sun’s high, they sleep inside the box, and when it’s nearly dark, they take off, looking for love.

Here’s how I know Owl 3.0 arrived just today: I never (and I mean never, not even during owl off-season) get out of my car without looking up at the box. Just in case. And this evening, I pulled into the driveway, opened my door, swung my left leg out and looked up. Behold!!

Haiku 10
April 10, 2025

He’s waiting, alert
like the flag on a mailbox
I feign nonchalance

#lizsharespoems
#30daysofhaiku
#NationalPoetryMonth

I love games, from dominoes to cards to Pictionary. When we were kids, my cousins and I spent a zillion summer hours playing Kick-the-Can, Sardines, Spoons and — my ultimate favorite — Hearts. I remember a particular vacation with my in-laws completely dominated by an intensely competitive Spite-and-Malice bracket. And even now, my husband and I almost always keep up a running gin tournament while traveling.

I’m not saying I’m a professional or anything, but I’ve had practice and I like to think that I usually get the rules and the strategies and… the point. Well, y’all? Last night, I began the process of learning Mahjong, and I Am Humbled. The sweet, patient woman teaching us kept saying things like, “It’s ok if you don’t understand this yet” and … um… thank you!

Still, by the end of the night I could imagine how a person might get good and hooked. Not saying that I am or will be, but the beauty of the tiles, the movement around the table, the building of a perfectly prescribed line? Definitely worth another night of it, at least.

Haiku 9
April 9, 2025

Tiles clack like birds
wing-to-wing along a wall
singing krak, dot, bam

#lizsharespoems
#30daysofhaiku
#NationalPoetryMonth

A year or so ago, my pal Marla started sharing the sweetest, brightest #minibouquets in her Instagram stories.

They struck a chord. Other people started sharing theirs and tagging her. (Including me.) But then an election happened. And winter came. Hurricanes and fires. Book bans, logging on public lands, measles outbreaks, deportations, tariffs. Overwhelm is understandable.

And yet… And still…
Spring.

Haiku 8
April 8, 2025

Pistils, petals, stems
Darlings at the dance dip, curtsy
And say yes again

#lizsharespoems
#30daysofhaiku
#NationalPoetryMonth

Before I say what I’m going to say: Yes, I know that wild turkeys live in central Texas. I have google. But y’all? I have never seen one here. And more importantly, I’ve never seen one marching around my house into my own backyard. But today I did.

This is what qualifies as a high point in my book. I was going to say “these days,” but honestly, seeing a wild turkey, curious but nonchalant, making her way into my backyard to see what’s what is just good news full stop. Don’t you think?

P.S. I don’t want to get all woo woo conspiracy theory here, but I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility that she arrived with the specific intention of being featured in an April haiku.

Haiku 7
April 7, 2025

I track her, agog
Turkey in her high pink boots
Like she owns the place

#lizsharespoems
#30daysofhaiku
#NationalPoetryMonth

44 degrees may not sound chilly to you, but in Austin, in April, it is indeed chilly. It’s a welcome chill, the last chance we’ve got to wear jeans and a sweater, to wrap hands around mugs, and make a giant pot of soup.

Summer’s coming. But for now? This.

Haiku 6
April 6, 2025

Unseasonable
Morning glories stay wrapped tight
Our blanket is wool

#lizsharespoems
#30daysofhaiku
#NationalPoetryMonth

This morning, my friend Lara and I went bird watching with the good folks from the Travis County Audubon Society. The first bird we saw (um, make that heard) was a red-shouldered hawk, with its insistent, shrieking call.

This afternoon, I joined thousands of my friends up at the Texas State Capital. We carried signs and kicked up a fuss and made our presence known as best and beautifully as we could.

Haiku 5
April 5, 2025

Like red shouldered hawks
We cry out, sound the alarm
Claim territory

#lizsharespoems
#30daysofhaiku
#NationalPoetryMonth

I love an indoor-outdoor kind of house. I love open windows, and sitting on the back deck to write. I love looking at the owl box from my living room, and bringing in stones and seed pods to set on the sills.

Sometimes someone takes it too far, like when a raccoon and two babies came in through the dog door or when rain swells the threshold or a bird builds a nest in my husband’s bike helmet. Or, today, the coriander-scented visitor creeping across our bedroom floor.

Haiku 4
April 4, 2025

A leaf? Bit of bark?
Stink bug vibrates in reply
He’ll show himself out

#lizsharespoems
#30daysofhaiku
#NationalPoetryMonth

(If you’re just hopping on, this is day 2/30 of my National Poetry Month celebration wherein I write a haiku each day… and invite you to join me in writing 1 or 5 or 30 of your own! More details in yesterday’s post…)

I drove from Austin to Dallas today, for the annual Texas Library Association conference. This entails braving I-35 for several hours, something only the brave or foolish would ever do, voluntarily at least. But the thing that makes this concrete chaos worth it (besides the approximately gazillion brilliant and committed librarians I’m going to get to say hi to and bow down to tomorrow) is what we know around these parts as Ladybird’s Legacy. You kind of have to see it to believe it, really.

Haiku 2
April 2, 2025

Riot of hatchlings
Spread wings, burst into song
Highway bluebonnets

#lizsharespoems
#30daysofhaiku
#NationalPoetryMonth

Welcome to my 16th year of celebrating National Poetry Month by writing a haiku-a-day. (Maybe, for you, it’s just year one. Great! Welcome! Join me!)

What are the rules? Well, a haiku is a three-lined unrhymed Japanese poetic form. The westernized version counts syllables (5 syllables, 7 syllables, 5 syllables) and I tend to use that in my practice but it’s not mandatory. Traditionally, haiku feature the natural world, refer (overtly or obliquely) to a season, and make a turn in tone, theme, or perspective after the 2nd line. Sometimes I’m very attendant to these rules, sometimes I play fast and loose; you should do with them what you may.

I used to have an incredible haiku community on twitter, back before the takeover. Our poemy clan feels dispersed now, so I’ll just share all over the place (Substack, Instagram, Facebook, Blog, Bluesky) and see what hits. Feel free to share yours too, in response to my posts or at your own place, in your own way. If you use these tags, I’ll try to find and read them!

#lizsharespoems
#30daysofhaiku
#nationalpoetrymonth

More discussion about this practice over the next few days but it’s nearly bedtime (I don’t have nearly the staying power of Cory Booker!) so without further ado…

Haiku 1
April 1, 2025

Inside a cabbage
an etching of an old oak
plants a seed in me