Today is the same day
As yesterday,
And every day preceding too.
The weather may change –
The same bleeds tomorrow –
And slowly then, a view.
A skinny, catkinny frost,
All futures somewhat like
Frozen carp in a cube,
Suspended, inanimate
Within a lake unthawed;
A whitening sun ignored,
Bleaker the sky, and blanched,
Inscrutable eyes widely forlorn –
A stupefied state –
So too the perch,
The grayling and the dace.
And so too, yes, the sky,
White as a severed heron’s chest,
White as survival and yet
Still agonisingly fruitless,
I pack up my taxonomies,
Slowly headed for home
In my exposed, irrevocable chest.
Tag: diurnal
Haiku #727
727.
Daily ebb and flow,
Although so much more these days,
Much more ebb than flow.
Anymore
Today is the day
Once yesterday before,
Where did those days all go to?
I cannot tell now, anymore.
Today was the day
I did not want any more,
How long I have felt this?
I cannot feel anymore.
Today, delicate fray gone away,
Flight lands in tomorrow.
I have already exhausted
All of my sorrows.
Haiku #700
700.
I tidy my house
For those seven hundred ghosts.
Guests do not visit.