Happy birthday, Mary Lee! "one ring wiser", indeed. If wisdom were distance, the girth of that heart of yours rivals the General Sherman!
Another not-haiku. Started this one over Thanksgiving and have not been able to give it up, so off it goes!
in the darkness, it rises
I praise all that does not last--
the boisterous wind that barged in last night, tossed itself against bare branches, then left the place in a shambles; and the sodden snow that followed, blinked under the weak sun and slowly shuffled home.
When the crows lit in the woods this morning, their landing arrived so sharp and swift it seemed the branches plucked them from the sky.
This life of mine. Yours, too, wrested from a grasping past. We gather near the embers. Breath exhaled into the cold night air hangs longer than seems possible.
Steve- This is beautiful. That first line. I read it. And read it. And read it again because it is so perfect and it just sort of catches my heart. Then the images in the second stanza. Wow! And the branches "plucked from the sky." The "grasping past." And the line breaks. I love this.
I've been reading Carol's haiku, and I knew you nudged her. Just found yours. Love gingko trees and Eve Merriam's poem that was in our 6th grade anthology. Happy Birthday!
Happy birthday, dear friend! I'm so thankful for the wisdom and poetry you bring to my life!
ReplyDelete"Christmas Antonym"
Her mottled old hands
Push rolling pin across dough
Such smooth gold emerges
(C) Carol Wilcox 2015
Happy birthday, Mary Lee! "one ring wiser", indeed. If wisdom were distance, the girth of that heart of yours rivals the General Sherman!
ReplyDeleteAnother not-haiku. Started this one over Thanksgiving and have not been able to give it up, so off it goes!
in the darkness, it rises
I praise all that does not last--
the boisterous wind that barged in last night, tossed itself
against bare branches, then left the place in a shambles;
and the sodden snow that followed, blinked
under the weak sun and slowly shuffled home.
When the crows lit in the woods
this morning, their landing arrived so sharp and swift
it seemed the branches plucked them from the sky.
This life of mine. Yours, too, wrested from
a grasping past. We gather near the embers.
Breath exhaled into the cold night air
hangs longer than seems possible.
In the darkness, it rises.
--steve peterson
Steve- This is beautiful. That first line. I read it. And read it. And read it again because it is so perfect and it just sort of catches my heart. Then the images in the second stanza. Wow! And the branches "plucked from the sky." The "grasping past." And the line breaks. I love this.
DeleteLeft you one on twitter ..
ReplyDelete;0
Kevin
Loving your site with beautiful haikus. I need to really dig deep into the art of haiku writing.
ReplyDeleteI've been reading Carol's haiku, and I knew you nudged her. Just found yours. Love gingko trees and Eve Merriam's poem that was in our 6th grade anthology. Happy Birthday!
ReplyDeleteHappy birthday and thank you for inspiring me to participate in this month of writing! Would welcome any feedback for this novice writer.
ReplyDelete