Not Quite Haiku

This Sunday’s writing prompt was to compose pithy phrases, not necessarily sticking to the 17 syllables of American haiku but with enough rhythm to give the illusion of poetry. It took me a while to loosen up and let go of the form. Writing like this is such fun and very freeing.

Cold winter rain falls.

Birds seek shelter. So do I.

Flowers sleep on, undisturbed.

Darkness is not bleak

when one remembers the moon.

Hang your own sky light.

Early morning birds,

Apples saucing in the pan;

small things delight me.

The tea kettle boils.

Silence shatters on a whistle.

The sun never appears.

Snow makes a dim light

garnered from the night bright stars

laid on the bare ground.

snowsleethailrainice

each one winter’s warrior

Yard, roof, sky

wrapped in impenetrable

white.

Tracks in the snow

lead to everywhere.

I cannot follow.

Birds whisper in winter

the songs they sing in spring.

Gray weathered fence

Supports a weary rose.

I bend my own head down.

One shuddering leaf
speaks for all of winter.