Skip to main content
dusk
a fresh baguette
crackles in my palm



three sneezes
all that’s left
of the snowman



Both published in Presence 43

Comments

  1. Thanks! I have to admit he's a favourite of mine too : )

    ReplyDelete
  2. So, you're moving into spring, Lynne - with fresh bread. Lucky you! I've read through your other posts. The writing is so descriptive - I feel I'm there with you.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Hi Barb - it's definitely spring here in the south of France (not counting the last 3 days of rain!). Today we're back to blue sky, and the bright pink blossom on the old plum tree is opening out as I type : ) Thanks for the kind words.

    ReplyDelete
  4. sneezing and sneezing
    the taste of apple

    much love...

    ReplyDelete
  5. Two very nice haiku, Lynne. The first is very tactile.

    sudden thaw...
    the snowman's eyes
    turn back to stones

    ...

    ReplyDelete
  6. Hey Frank - love the snowman's eyes... it feels so sad!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Consolidation & Simplification

Since January 2020 all my work - haiku writing, poetry, prose, imaginative and non-fiction writing - has been posted on my website   Lynne Rees .  Please feel free to share anything from this archive, or my main site, but I'd be grateful if you could credit me as the writer and link back to the source.  Thank you 🙏 Lynne 

haibun ~ Playing Lego Minecraft with Morgan

There’s only a portal of black obsidian between the zombies and lava in The Dimension of The Nether and The Overworld where Steve is standing and I am counting his sheep, cows and pigs. But we really shouldn’t be hanging around when night is about to fall and mob attacks are imminent: Blazes and Creepers, Spiders from The Cave, all ready to descend on The Farm.  autism spectrum my nephew names all the monsters It’s time to lock up the animals, he says, time to close doors and windows, so I turn Steve around and notice he’s clutching a tiny baguette, something that fills me with unaccountable joy: that in this world of sharp edges and danger a boy has placed Bread in a man’s hands and they are carrying it home.  Presence 63,  March 2019

haiku commentary

deeper shadows where the walls meet... autumn rain – Mark E. Brager, The Heron's Nest, Volume XXI, Number 3 (2019) I imagine a corner, two walls meeting at right angles. I can see the depth of shadow there. If I reach out, I am sure the surface – rough brick or smooth masonry – will be cooler; perhaps because the autumn rain I now notice has started to fall. The places where people meet are more emotionally complex, stepping, as we may have to, from the comfort of the familiar to the challenge of the unfamiliar. Those “deeper shadows” may be rich with empathy and gratitude. Eshadows in corners Photograph by Steven Castledinequally, they may be fraught with conflict and umbrage. Brager’s haiku shifts me from inanimate objects to human experience. I sense loss through the image of “autumn rain,” or at least an understanding, or acceptance, of inevitable change that results in something being left behind. Perhaps change, even for the better, always leaves a