Jonathan English was walking down the street in his Northwest D.C. neighborhood — Sixteenth Street Heights — when he heard a bush ringing out with birdsong.

       Haiku is not normally the form of writing Jonathan, 44, does — he’s a lawyer at HUD — but lately he’s been trying the form.

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       “I’ve been getting into it more recently,” he said. “I’ve been reading books on haiku and writing haiku related to the city.”

       And so, for the first time ever, he entered my annual Springtime in Washington haiku contest. I’ve chosen Jonathan’s entry as the winner:

       the hedge is singing!

       sonorous and civilized . . .

       a congress of birds

       I like the susurration of that middle line, and the sly nod to the capital city in the last one. Our Congress of humans may not be sonorous and civilized these days, but perhaps it can learn from the birds.

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       Here are some of my other favorites. You will detect a few themes. Thank you to everyone who entered.

       slowly one by one

       he loses all his buttons

       a melting snowman

       — Sebastian Chrobak, Bielsko-Biala, Poland

       Pink and white burst forth

       A floral filibuster

       Springtime in D.C.

       — Curtis Ramsey-Lucas, Hyattsville

       Milkweed peers above

       young grass—can we all agree

       on this green new deal?

       — Daniel Horner, Washington

       The meadow on fire!

       No, but how these wildflowers

       Are catching the sun

       — Kerry Bank, Santa Fe, N.M.

       Rows of pink ball gowns

       Waltz along the Potomac

       They outshine Dior.

       — Jaynie Simmons, Washington

       Flip-flops and parkas.

       A wardrobe for early Spring's

       Weather psychosis.

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       — Dan Jarrell, Alexandria

       Dormant mower waits

       for the first pull-start of spring

       to cough blue-gray life

       — Ryan Hess, College Park

       News-weary, I sit

       waiting for cherry blossoms

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       and get war instead

       — Guy Beadie, Falls Church

       Windy days in spring

       Make our cherry blossoms fall

       Like tears for Ukraine

       — Nancy Gregory, Fairfax

       Peepers in the creek

       Drowned out by sounds of traffic

       They sing for themselves

       — Rich Newman IV, Hagerstown, Md.

       Here comes a convoy

       To disrupt Beltway travel

       We do that ourselves

       — Edie Espenshade, Columbia, Md.

       Sycamore branches,

       Bleached bones against flat blue sky;

       Winter’s end promised

       — Jayson Amster, Upper Marlboro

       Endless variants...

       Stuck on zombie carousel

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       Round and round we go!

       — Vicki Elsbernd, Reston

       Should I wear a mask?

       Covid is not done with us.

       We seem done with it.

       — Lori Skalitzky, Crofton, Md.

       Returning to work.

       Maybe now? Maybe later?

       Mostly not at all.

       — Catherine Henry, Annandale

       uninhabited

       street life abated - but soon,

       uninhibited

       — Richard Bates, Greenbelt

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       Frenzied flowers dip

       Arching as the warm wind whips

       Perfume scented waves

       — Kathy Cho, Fairfax

       persistent robins

       tug the threads from patchy snow—

       unraveled blankets

       — Elizabeth Spencer Spragins, Fredericksburg, Va.

       It’s twister season —

       “Seek shelter,” says Cappucci —

       But he opts to chase

       — Alice Nodine, Hendersonville, N.C.

       Buds sit tight and wait

       On the edges of their seats

       Anticipating

       — Lisa Szymanski, Vienna

       Adams Morgan Spring,

       Cafes open, flowers bloom,

       And the rats — sublime.

       — Jim Pembroke, Washington

       “Dreamy” in D.C.:

       Words and weed waft through the air.

       Now, ***that’s*** “selling smoke.”

       — Sharon Neeman, Pardes Hanna, Israel

       Haiku writer's trap:

       Focusing on syllables,

       Forgetting content.

       — David Berry, Annandale