A blog in honor of Ernest Hemingway's continual search for the perfect sentence. Now in a new and improved haiku format!
The pristine whiteness
broken only by the small
tracks left by a cat
She once enjoyed mind
games with friends and lovers but
now it is board games
The sun gives no warmth
today, while the roaring of
the wind usurps all
Instead of clever,
cute, or even preachy, this
is simply itself
The weak tea light of
dawn fails at its duty to
wake sleepers from dreams
Old photos found that
evoke dormant memories
but steal them as well
Boxes now empty
wrapping discarded, cake gone;
mundane days return
Friends scattered across
the lonesome planet reach out;
hearts erase distance
The birthday wishes
made in the candle smoke are
now for simpler aims
The day fades to dark;
night awakens a yearning
that the morning quells
I stare into the
night sky where I hope a small
piece of you lives on
Walking in the rain
without a coat, forces you
to remain grounded
Late nights surrendered
to early mornings, bars to
some bedroom slippers
She referred to it,
Valentines, as amateur
day, hers was all year
The old warped album
still stirred memories although
mishappen by time
Jaded by age and
circumstance, she no longer
cared for the spotlight
Wind whipped Saturday
the dog drags out the morning
walk while coffee cools
Lives like debris left
scattered from digging the hole
we find ourselves in
The radio tells
of death and anguish, lying
in your warm bed, pray
A nun stands on the shore
watching the ice flow downriver;
black and white thoughts drift
He wished only to
experience a joy like
his dog at play knew
suddenly awake
before dawn, mind replaying
ancient abasements
Sing out into the
darkness, an offkey bellow
gets the point across
The poet in his
poverty but not poor
life provides a path
Every six months
the dentist determines if
I've kept my promise