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Issue #108, Anne U. White Trail, Boulder, Colorado, April 3, 2005. On the day that the clocks sprang forward, haiku poets Krista Morien, Sara Benson, Susan Peterson, Jonathan Machen and Patrick Lynn descended upon the Anne U. White trail, always a haiku favorite.

To visit two prior haikutimes issues celebrating this very same trail, go to Anne U. White May 9, 2004 or Anne U. White March 10, 2002.

on the trail with friends
each of us glad to have left
our heavy stuff behind

off to a good start
each haiku poet relates
tales of dread and woe

speaking what's inside
our words land and rest among
the old pine needles

first flowers of spring
tiny, pink and perfect
next to cigarette

i like looking at
your little red tick body
but don't drink my blood

weaving and unweaving
along the stream, brown and white
butterfly and me

dogs and people pass
the light reflecting
from the creek remains

the butterflies play
most likely they are new life
life flutters on by

a tepid breeze
lifts a few pages of my notebook
sets them back down

ever notice how
orange lichen gets right to the point
and stays that way?

walking and talking
scattered along the trail
convening about life

the several hundred
tiny golden spines in my finger
are beautiful in the sunlight

dank, earthy odor
unfolding as snow recedes
from april creek bed

great mossy wall
something out of tolkien
right here in boulder

sexual animals
walking around with clothes on
not fooling anyone

mountain lion
warning sign
spelled out in bones

i guess they ignored
the private property sign
frolicking nature spirits

this spring sounds like
snow melt running over
sun warmed rocks
- and birdsong
--and pine breeze

haiku for sanjay
the man with the wanderlust
must go his own way

between two pine trees
a shallow depression
(like mine), with deer poop
and the first patch
of tentative grass shoots
presumably there's
more water here

in the shade -
winter and snow
in sun, summer and green grass
not two different paths
maybe even two sides of one path
but one path
one day
this day.
nature reminds
those that stop to notice
of the ever changing moment
one can't step in the
same river twice
how can one smell the same air
or walk the same path
we move the clock forward one hour
but we can't move ourselves
forward even one moment
sooner than when
we arrive at that moment.

the following twelve haiku are composed of random lines from the haiku above; a true collabora-ku, from the authors of this issue...read at your own risk...