On a less solemn note, my friends and I had a great time today passing around haiku on twitter and facebook. Most of these had to do with gnomes. No not warcraft gnomes – ick. Garden-variety gnomes.
My progression went like this:
Feed dogs up? What up?
That’s not my style. Who did this?
I blame the damn gnomes.He has cute going
And the darling big red hat
But he does not clean.With a sleight of hat
the little gnome (never mine)
went, came, had done what?
Remembrance of an April
A single crocus in the yard
stands watching over
the taller daffodils still
pushing through the leaves.Years ago
I told him to leave
on the first of April:
“It’s time for you
to live somewhere else” I said
leaving, for a moment,
the doubt of a
poorly played joke.
And so it had spun out,
those years, an
all too long and private joke.He packed.
I repeatedly took out
the two things of that kept
appearing in his cartons.
A mug. A book.
I finally let the book go.
Why that book I had no idea.He seemed angry
that I didn’t help him.
I stayed in my room
and listened to him toss
things into the rented truck.
That July morning at last
the truck pulled away
finishing the whole charade.Mary Beth Frezon 7 April 2011
What She Said, by Billy Collins. Courtesy of The Writers Almanac. Made me laugh more and more.
Oops time to put #15 in but I better clean and oil first.
After slushy day
Open the car door and smell
Wet earth and earthworms.
It’s no use saying, “We are doing our best.” You have got to succeed in doing what is necessary.
