#394 – 3 Haiku

3 Haiku


winter’s iron breath

so slow the ripping of dreams

dead leaves from my tree



spirits ride red brick

make the street otherworldly

white laundromat steam



on a path they walk

so much cold in the air keeps

them from holding hands





About Blackbird

Poet, sculptor, jewelry maker, writer, spouse, parent, crazy person - not necessarily in that order.
This entry was posted in Change, Dreams, Winter and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to #394 – 3 Haiku

  1. Ron says:

    I had almost forgotten how much I miss your personal style of haiku! Number one, I think, is especially poetic and powerful. Number two — great metaphor for steam. Number three — not sure why the cold would keep them from holding hands, but it still speaks to me…but haven’t they heard of gloves?! *hehe* Three nice ones, Merle.

    • Blackbird says:

      Thanks Ron! Three…more of a metaphor for the cold air between them…a little sad…guess I was having a rough week.

      • Ron says:

        I’m sorry. You and I both know that things will get better in time, the great healer. The metaphor in the third haiku is just so obvious now that you analyzed it for me. DUHHH!

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