you lay cleft at dawn

Sophia Wood
3 min readFeb 27, 2021


This is the third set of haiku from my daily practice started January 1st, 2021. The previous set is is here. This practice was more challenging after losing power for 11 days due to an ice storm, but the beauty, the loss of trees, and time yielded more thought. Enjoy!

I always look up

to the trees; magnificent

my smallness is known

the lenses we have

magnify, distort, and bend

our reality

I breath in and out

the air that circles the earth

the eddies of life

cumulative drops

glazing ice on leaf and limb

winter steps on spring


so humbling, loving, and kind

loving thy neighbor

the mind of a child

creative, curious, joy

never let yours go

ice rains down on life

smoothing bumps, magnifying

winter chandeliers

fire’s fingers dance,

wrap and hug life that once was

air, to tree, to air

the parallel curves

encasing sedum in ice

small bubbly fractals

crow, quiet and still

waits, watches, ruffles, then flies

through the moon’s dim light

plot the Devil’s Curve

center on infinity

lemniscate in walls

lofty sequoia

reach, spread your canopy

envelope my eyes

white smeared on the blue

hints of orange and purple

clouds gather to speak

the death of my friends

I felt the ground shake all night

you lay cleft at dawn

in just one moment

a head injury, a loss

never in silence

the moment for tea

remove leafs at the right time

as with all life’s gifts

repose beneath sky

find the space within your mind

clear the clouds of thought

the delta, I am

changing, growing, condensing

into me, not me

coding with patterns

knit, purl, yarn over, and slip

for loops in the wool



Sophia Wood

Math obsessed perpetual asker of why. Creator of poetry, code, math, and art. find me at or Salem, OR