Cupped hands gather tears dreams once clear now misted, gone – nostalgic ideals. (Written for RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge: water/ smoke. Also for Reena’s Exploration
Expectations safely stowed pursed alongside judgment, I am bent on finding an outlet for already disgruntled disposition. Encounter inexperience fumbling responsibility – an overwhelmed innocent
The world, I’d say, is struggling to endure – upheaval the new norm old protocols redundant – insane the political thrum. Surely hope has remained,
(Warning: trigger) It wasn’t for want of terror – inexplicable horror caused me to quake There was no one to hear – a remote lair,
Autumn dons a mask, regales the changing season, ignores Winter’s threat – and I too, dance, brightly clad, deny the nearness of death.
In Mallard’s wake woe – with clipped wings, I watch and yearn for Winter sojourn. (For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day, and RonovanWrites