Vivid dreams linger
Meditation clears them out
A thousand-yard stare

My oatmeal is thick
In the same way blood should be
My spoon does not fall

 I must leave this place
The walls of this house close in
Nature beckons me

Glacial morning air
Wakes better than a shower
Frost clings to my beard

My thoughts are still clear
Where are my birds? Sing to me.
I desire to lose myself

My damned dreams return
Song birds are scarce in winter
No distractions left

I sit in the snow
With that rapt thousand-yard stare
Into vivid dreams

My front door remains open
The house must be cold by now.

I wrote this in the form of a Haiku sonnet: 7 Haikus ending in a couplet.