night reflections (troiku)

day after day
waiting
still – no sunrise

day after day
Time passes
without me

waiting
under the weeping willow
shadows mocking

still – no sunrise
Mother Earth can’t even rescue
she’s stopped spinning

Daily moments – Nigh reflections November 25/17

Daily Moments season’s cold breaths

My hands are cold
My heart is numb and silent
My eyes keep swimming

Aiming to the surface _ yet
the light’s so far away

Hunching forward
Shrinking to the fetal state
turning to my heart

tomorrow
is another day
…so they say

©️Tournesol’ 17/11/25

November 25/17 Daily Moments cold breaths of autumn

first robin (troiku)

first Robin spotted
the low lands are facing the dark
snow falls softly (c) Chėvrefeuille’17

first robin spotted
the low lands are facing the dark
snow falls softly

first robin spotted
pecking with purpose
on mother’s clothes line

the low lands are facing the dark
shadow slowly lifts
at dawn

snow falls softly
marking their spot
amid fallen leaves

Written for Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie

crimson light (troiku)

Below them,
the dark streets beckoned
with crimson light.

below them
silence of city streets
screamed with loneliness

the dark streets beckoned
warmer hearts
and fuller bellies

with crimson light
feigning love and musky scents
to pay the rent

First Line Friday at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie

the 9th life (haibun) Daily Moments November 24/17

He lived a humble life alone…a niece or a nephew here and there brought sunshine to his life…his offspring found no time, nor care to watch the sunset by his side. Before he reached this tranquil life, he’d tested his boundaries, stretching the elastics of addictions. Too many “last calls” and rolling dice and flirting reckonings from the meanest loan sharks. Like a cat, he had at least eight lives.

After umpteenth losses, he faced illness and disability, rooming in the most modest abode…a small room among others slightly different yet much the same; not in any kind of bed and breakfast, yet three fixed meals a day.

rags to riches
unrequited love
to borrowed rags.

Last week, he went for a stroll. Waiting at the corner for the light to change, he steps down the curb leaning on his cane, minding his own business like he’s done all his life…

unforeseen
meeting his maker
with a BANG

smell of burnt rubber
wail of niece and nephew

maman et papa
sisters and big brothers
show the way

most unusual racetrack
with perpetual winnings

This is in honour of my uncle, after hearing the news I received today about his sudden death …my mother’s brother.

Written for Micro Poetry Month #24

Daily moments paradise beyond November 24 2017

remembering (Tan Renga – Troiku – Naani)

deep silence
the shrill of cicadas
seeps into rocks © Matsuo Bashō (1644-1694)

soothing fledglings
mid-day lullaby ©Tournesol’17

remembering
yesterday
when you were here ©Tournesol’17

soft winter breeze cherishes
the last colorful leaves © Chèvrefeuille

For the first Tan Renga our host has given us the first stanza by Basho (the hokku) and the second Tan Renga, our host gives the second stanza of two lines so we can create the first stanza (hokku). See more at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai for instructions as well as visiting other participants’ contributions.

This last exercise awakened my longing for her…

(troiku) a new form of haiku created by Chèvrefeuille at CDHK

remembering
yesterday
when you were here

remembering
scent of Givenchy
caressing me

yesterday
tumbling down the stairs
you kissed the boo-boo

when you were here
I was always
your little girl

©Tournesol’17/11/23

(naani)

how I miss your laugh
your soothing voice
telling me not to worry ~ just pray
three Hail Mary’s before I sleep

©Tournesol’17/11/23

Daily Moments Your Little Girl Troiku – November 23 2017
This Troiku and Naani is written for MicroPoetry Month#23

a different kind of therapist (haibun)

Waking earlier than usual, she shuffles eyes half closed, holding her forehead to the bathroom to run her bath. Peeking through tired eyes at her reflection and after careful evaluation sighs with relief that Man-made masks exist in all forms.

ivory liquid
brushed smoothly
on ashen face
painting taupe shadows and liner
illusions of a happy face

Arriving at her appointment, she settles comfortably and opens up to a face of compassion. Tears running down her cheeks, her therapist listens with empathy and continues her task…

scraping and cutting
polishing for good measure
podiatrist soothes

Who knew her foot doctor could be the only one who seems to “get it”? Too bad the next appointment is only in two months.

even
the perfectly shaped leaf
dies