Death is always fair

whoever and wherever

you are it swallows

you up, spore by spore until

there is nothing left to spawn.

And my submission for Heeding Haiku

Plum Branch

The scent of plum heeds

my fingertips-a twig snapped-

a caress stolen.

we had to rewrite this poem by Chiyo-Ni

the flowering branch of the plum
gives its scent
to him who broke it off


9 thoughts on “Spore and Heeding Haiku With Chèvrefeuille

      1. Since this post is teeny, I think you should write me a birthday poem … an extra poem — not to be confused with the poem you’ll post in 11 1/2 hours. 😉

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