Winter Pages
Seasons bring season, bring thoughts of what we are and what we want to be-- four short poems
She said:
“I think it’s important to realize you can miss something, but not want it back.” – Paulo Coelho
She said just a moment, should
Be done . We let steak,
Cool waiting dinner done
Us late, 30 minutes
Shy of eight.
One more chance to hurry
To one more wait
So contemplating
Life I said to my
Passenger, “ Leave?”
Neither of us knew
How long to sit , longer
As the clock flew
I said I didn't know
It would be like this
Lies are never
True. We wait
For soup and let time
Eat Saturday. Someone said
I should have stayed.
I left in
My head.
Winter Senryu
Broken limbs
Laid down in deep snow
Surrender
Winter's weight laid down
The pines know the grace in ice
They reach for the ground
The roots of Winter, frozen deep
Spring , sleeping blessed, waiting , still
Birthed by graceful pines
Pulled to the sun as Winter fades
The Robin tells when Spring is born…
Till then sleep
Quiet winter child
Wait to sing.
Close Shave
The motion dictates
A certain respect for the tool
He said and
I remember the first time
Skin gone rough at the edges
Scars for trophies
Bleeding
The curve
Inviting, but secondary to the blindness
Of the one in my hands
Rising and fallen
Slick
The purpose is
To be very close to
Come
Near to the cleanest of ends
Stripped
As advertised
This shave
Close
Haiku in Whispers
We were whispers once
Bare phrases born limitless
Unsung poetry
A child holds the twine
The wind carries kites away
Lost string memories
Our clay feet turn stone
Stoic granite cairns for legs
We are the sculpted
Yet in the green field
Young stalks bend like wheat by wind
Verdant chorus sung
And for a moment
We are clay by string by stalk
We were whispers once
About the Creator
Erroneous Monk
Husband, father and general n'er do well.
A specialist in micro-fiction, short story and poetry, Erroneus believes in the small moments between the lines.
Imperfectly perfect. Always
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