Haiku

I can still remember learning to count syllables in primary school, and then being taught to write haiku. I loved the challenge of getting the 5-7-5 just right.

Today, I am quiet, reflective, noticing the changing season and the changes around me--taking them in with their emotional weight, letting them wash through. And so, haiku felt oddly appropriate.

To share:

Daily, the dustman sweeps.
Wrappers receipts, sweets and butts.
And now, also, leaves.

After you have cried,
your face looks as if it's washed
with rose water, pink.

She asks me to list
the feelings I hold within:
sadness, despair, fear.