3 Haikus
Stir
Sudden memories
Swell within, stirring the womb
Like unborn children.
Chores
Goodbye, it is late.
Must get the hanging linen
Before the dew does.
Dough
Unleavened unformed
Waiting for your touch, it’s time
Once more, to be born.
Sudden memories
Swell within, stirring the womb
Like unborn children.
Chores
Goodbye, it is late.
Must get the hanging linen
Before the dew does.
Dough
Unleavened unformed
Waiting for your touch, it’s time
Once more, to be born.
Labels: poetry
Selected by Anonymous |
21:10 |
4 Comments:
yup! me too! *unleavened* thats a strange word.wondering??
the second one...rah, rah!
Lovely.
Fell in love with the second one...to me it captures best the intrinsic beauty of a haiku...that such a mundane exercise can be turned into a sublime image, you make it seem so easy...keep them coming!
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