Haiku 95

Like lost memories

Januay frost sparkles

Under the lamp light

Another dark morning

I sit in the dark

Thinking about everything

That could be different, this time next year.

Broken ice

In the morning sun

The ice starts to crack

Everything fragile still

Haiku 94

In the small hours
Snow flakes glow in the street light
fall and gently fade

Not here

I look out the window, rain running down. The cat wet at my feet. Washing waiting. Clothes need folding. A crack in the ceiling expands. I think of the sea. Of the waves that crash. The ones that lull. The fret that kisses my face. Pebbles I hold tight in my hand. Not ready to give up. To give back. To hold close a little longer. Right now, as the clock ticks, the day wastes. I’d rather be there, not here.

Ice

Yesterday, I fell on the ice. And I wonder this morning. If all of me got back up again.

My bones bruised, my eyes tired. I sit here thinking what I left behind.

What I no longer have. Because I fell and no one was there, to pick me up, to wipe me down, to see what it was.

I lost. On the sheet ice.

The tree outside

Even the branches

weep in the cold grey, winter

knocks on the window

Bright, light

walking home
I stare through windows
watch families laugh
feeling a little less
alone

Summer, Gone

an orange glow
as low winter sun
reflects in my window,
fills the room with light,
a warmth from yesterday
bright for a moment
falls at my side.

Moon, bright.

silver moon hanging
in cornflower skies
early frost shimmers