A winter haiku
for the "Roots and Branches" challenge
The snowbound tree moves
The roots under the cold ground
Settling in for sleep
Every winter-
A recollection upon
A recollection
Every memory
An Engraved circle under
The thickening bark
What Does it dream of-
A hand that planted it or
A hand that cuts it?
About the Creator
Salomé Saffiri
Writing - is my purpose. I feel elated when my thoughts assume shapes, and turn into Timberwolves, running through the snowbound planes of fresh paper, leaving the black ink of their paw prints behind.
Keep reading
More stories from Salomé Saffiri and writers in Poets and other communities.
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts4 days ago in Longevity
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.