The airport’s gates are
just for departures. Faces
resign to leave, hands
lifting half aloft
in sleepy goodbye. No one
takes belongings or
notes destinations.
Numbers are abstract again,
and, besides, the few
left behind wait to
follow. We kiss and hug, our
habits harder to
give up, but skies open and
invite us at last.
Filed under: Birds, Death, Dreams, Extinction, Haiku, Haiku Sonnets, Human Nature, Life, Literature, Musings, Oblivion, Poetry, Sonnets, Surrealism, Thoughts, Writing
I am not generally a big fan of poetry, but I have to say, without exception, I love all your Haiku. There is something so crisp, clean and accessible about all of them. No pretense. And such consistent output. My vote for Poet Blogger Laureate.
Thank you–you’re too nice. I’m not so sure about my labels these days. I hear from people that my haiku aren’t really haiku and that “haiku sonnet” is a misnomer too. But I do think of it all as poetry, anyway. It’s especially nice to hear that you see no pretense in my work. For a long time, I think my work was all about pretense—stilted and stiff. Maybe I’ve discovered the secret is caring less…or should that be relaxing more? Anyway, it’s wonderful to hear from you! —D
Aan enjoyable piece and a clever poetic form; I may just have to use it someday in my poetic scribblings; thanks for the inspiration.
Joe Breunig
Author, Reaching Towards His Unbounded Glory
ISBN: 1-4196-5051-3 or 978-1419650512
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
Thank you for visiting. —D