https://pixabay.com/en/nature-plant-sheet-garden-season-3342090/
***
FLYING BLOSSOM (After Arakida Moritake)
***
blossom falls, rises
it returns to the bough — look,
it’s a butterfly
***
Free davidbrucehaiku eBooks(pdfs)
https://davidbruceblog.wordpress.com/patreon/
Free eBooks by David Bruce (pdfs)
https://pixabay.com/en/girl-beauty-woman-portrait-3322756/
***
INFIDELITY?
***
you are beautiful
and yet I look at this girl
infidelity?
***
Free davidbrucehaiku eBooks(pdfs)
https://davidbruceblog.wordpress.com/patreon/
Free eBooks by David Bruce (pdfs)
https://pixabay.com/en/angel-woman-head-face-figure-2899333/
***
DYING FATHER (after Yamazaki Sōkan)
***
Father is dying
It’s a solemn, serious time
And I keep farting
***
Free davidbrucehaiku eBooks(pdfs)
https://davidbruceblog.wordpress.com/patreon/
Free eBooks by David Bruce (pdfs)
why does she sing?
she turned 91, the old bird
her life’s mate was just caged in the nursing home
he can’t remember why
his once lengthy repertoire has been reduced to a few, sweet notes
her handicapped son still lives at home
needing her patient care
all he could ever do was chirp
the last of her friends died years ago
their songs now silent
she takes her coffee with younger generations
their noisy squawks sometimes give her a headache
but she never complains
she goes on singing, the old bird
and smiles and laughs
and shares a story
or ten
she sings
not because her life’s bird landed on a beautiful branch
in a flawless tree
she sings
because
as a bird in life’s tree
she can
~
for my Granny, who still tells the best stories and is an avid bird-watcher
~
Words and Photography ©2018 Tanya…
View original post 16 more words
“It’s Nice That….6” by Gabriella Boyd
by sly trick or device
given quirks of
pop culture
you acquired some fame
fifteen minutes
to bask in the
half-hearted interest
of narrow minds
shallow souls
bored just as easily
as they’re amused
social media
leaves your
indelible scrapbook
to later look back
and ask of the past
what the hell
were you thinking
From my book Ephemera
By Charles Robert Lindholm
My pen is filled
with indigo ink
that captures
the words
that are whispered
into my ear
View original post 552 more words
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