Sometimes a poem just happens. That's how this haiku came about. I was busy doing my least favorite chore after breakfast one late December morning. When I looked up from the sudsy water, I saw the naked maple tree in our backyard adorned with blue jays against the backdrop of a snow-covered field. How could I not put it into a poem? The haiku is the perfect form for the swift and indelible impression created by a sudden flash of beauty. It needs no embellishment. It wants only to be seen in the mind's eye again and again.