I
You won’t be able
to stand or walk till you’re not
afraid of the floor.
II
Doors won’t open till
you’re ready to deal with what’s
on the other side.
III
Words are empty till
filled by context, coloured by
perspective’s bias.
#288
Tag: haiku
Haiku Anagrammed
When our logic failed
reason gave me no answers.
Hearts filled in the blanks.
=
Like rainbows flashing
we ensnared the headlong lies
from nature’s alcove.
#286
The second haiku is an anagram of the first haiku
And the Dance Goes On
Leaves crunch underfoot.
Summer’s bones litter and drift
into the hollows.
Autumn’s ripe red scent
steeps the air cranberry rust
with a hint of loam.
She wears a golden
gown, rustling taffeta
with red petticoats.
Twitching up her skirts,
she swirls, flirts with the old man
who stands in the door.
He catches her hand,
joins her in the dance, icing
her pretty gold gown
as they waltz the night
and he draws her close to him
‘neath his snowy cloak.
Now they drift away,
fall into a restless sleep
and dream of a child
crying to wake up,
fretting for flowers and leaves
to twine in her hair.
Autumn gives her child
sunshine. Winter gives his child
a pure mountain stream
and he names her Spring
and knows that one day Summer
will woo her away.
Then they’ll call their child
Autumn, after her mother,
and the dance goes on.
#282
Perfect
Live a perfect life.
Rethink your definition
of the word ‘perfect’.
#276
The Fleeting Season
I
The honking wakes me.
Geese slice summer to ribbons
like Damocles’ sword.
II
Winter is the sword
suspended over our heads,
the autumn spoiler.
III
The fleeting season,
autumn glows in the last light
of a waning sun.
#270
The Meaning of Life
The Meaning of Life
lives in a candy store jar
without a label.
The jar is never
full or in the same spot twice,
except when it is.
The candy inside
is sweet, sour, and salty
all at the same time.
The tang on your tongue
makes you shake your head and wince
and yet you want more.
The candy store is
open and yet you stand with
your nose to the glass.
The Meaning of Life
is just taking what you need
and leaving the rest.
#262
Always
Always a faint hope
doing stuff I’ve always done
might yield new results.
Always a vague thought
that results may not reflect
a lot of what’s true.
Always a slight chance
that I’m overthinking things.
I do that a lot.
#260
Farmers’ Market
With basket empty,
Farmers’ Market bound am I
to fill the basket.
Whole grain bread, honey,
eggs, tomatoes, yellow beans,
Into the basket.
Unpack the basket
taste the sunshine, soil, and rain
of the Peace Country.
#259
Remember
Remember to see
I know your eyes are open
but just see, just see.
Remember to listen
I know that you can hear me
but just listen, just listen.
Remember to breathe.
When your back’s against the wall
breathe, just breathe, just breathe.
#257
Just This Once
Frost, geese in a vee,
September is here again.
Where did summer go?
Time to start the drift
into winter denial.
There is no escape.
The darkness that falls
too early and leaves too late
is the hardest part.
Frost, geese in a vee.
Take me with you when you go.
Just this once, just once.
#255
Linda Studley 