Day: October 14, 2018
Haiku on Autumn Weather — The Reluctant Poet
Originally posted on Darkness of His Dreams: Golden wet oak leaves Mulch in puddles of decay Earthworms turn the soil. 10-12-18
55
Checkered, polka-dot, plaid;
a pattern of familiarity
an alarming consistency of what’s next.
I once met someone who admitted to me
that he may never get married;
he didn’t think he could love anyone.
Instead of asking those big questions,
“When did you start thinking that?”
“Do you really believe it?”
I started thinking,
“I can change that,
I can make him love me.”
He just needed someone to talk to
someone to understand how
loneliness can eat away at you
like ants on a picnic blanket
This pattern of trying
to fit everything
into everything else,
that I had a place
in anything I deemed
needed fixing.
Not every statement needs a response
and not every time are you
that answer.
memory now — Annette Rochelle Aben
Presence subtle there Wind gently moving tree tops Simply passing through One minute there, the next gone Much like the blink of an eye ©2018 Annette Rochelle Aben
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