Haiku Bones: regret
i sleep into day
trying too hard to repair
impossible dreams
the peel of night waits
fragrant, beneath your window
why bang empty pots?
s and h green stamps
yellowed pages, book half full
red tipped match same drawer
a rush of sparrows
such sudden beauty disturbs
childhood symmetry
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Copyright
The works and commentary of this blog are the expressly held rights of Anna Norden. Reproduction (print, electronic or any other form) is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.
About Me
- gabrielle
- I live in South Minneapolis with Chris, Emma and Sauvi. We make good trouble together. I am committed to living in such a way as to engender peace and social justice, ecology and sustainability, and cultural, spiritual and artistic expression and exchange. I am interested in dialogue about the core of the human experience.
9 comments:
Superb! I'm particularly fond of the S&H green stamps. That one rings a nostalgia bell!
Lovely, all. I particularly like the rush of sparrows...
Love how the haikus build to the power of that last one! Beautiful!
These were wonderful...the first one truly resonated with me. Beautiful!
Wow! Love the first one, and yes, I remember the emotions imbued in those green stamps!
I am of a mind to light the match and let the flame carry me to the now defunct trading stamp store.
Tumbleweeds - glad it brought back memories. the book was always half full!
Nancy - Thank you. I am glad you enjoyed.
Greyscale - thank you for noticing that. I was hoping for that effect.
Sweetest in the Gale - So glad you enjoyed - it's the first one I wrote upon waking.
Robin - Thank you for you kind words
Mark - you and me both!
I regret that I sleep to late in the morning but I too am a night person. I cleaned my office last month and found a lot of those old green stamps. No sparrows came in to bring me out of the nostalgia.
..
Jim's 'Regret ~ Haiku Bones' haiku
..
We bang empty pots
To call you from your sleep.
Silly Goose Scooping Moon.
Come play with us, or at least sing the song of the moon to us.
We wait.
Post a Comment