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
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”
I love your haiku!
Awww thank you =)
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. 😉
lol it is small today I have been pretty stressed
Was it your birthday and I did not get the hint yesterday?
Ah makes me sigh to read this beautiful haiku..just stunning, Yves!
Awww thank you
Death is just a different ‘life’ – so some say.
But the ones left behind have to deal with the ‘holes’.
I went with humor for this prompt:
‘b’ or not
I have had the same thought Jules