With a Two-Legged Goat & a Flying Fish
Who I’ve become after all my adventures on land is a seventy-one year-old man who fa…
The sky is pewter…
No birds come to the feeder —
war desolates all
These haiku are inpremeditated, even unwritten until posted… spontaneity being one of the Haiku form’s essential earmarks (heart-marks?). Now winter both mentally and physically, the outside world is a bit bleak today out my window, and I can’t shake thoughts of the tragic desolating of the world at this moment that doesn’t seem to abate…
At least this sky is pewter… not ablaze with fire and smoke. At least no birds visit my feeder… not cars blasted to twisted metal and blood and bone in the street…
This haiku is an echo of the fact that, true or false, the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings in Brazil makes a breeze across the globe. I love the idea of it, and know that we are all connected in ways too subtle sometimes to express, with no distance too great for this connection to bridge — Allah’s Names and Attributes at work in every instance.
Categories: Poems