Perched on the edge of
grief or relief,
I don't so much jump
but am pushed by the momentum of events.
Once in open air,
I hover--
not knowing if I will fly
or simply plummet.
Haiku [untitled]
Winter and the cold snow bring the dark-eyed juncos. My heart, full, watches.
-
Today's color: White GISH Starchy shrapnel covers the cutting board-- evidence of a warped mind driven to carve a couch ...
2 comments:
simple yet deep
Thanks Owen. :)
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