Last night’s closing haiku tormented.
I was dissatisfied with it when I went to bed, dissatisfied this afternoon, and tonight. I was trying to capture something of the magic, and desolation too, of nightfall in winter. Every effort struck me as mundane.
····on the crow’s shoulder—
But this, I think, is where I can finish the haiku. And yet here I sit again, almost midnight and nothing to write.
····on the windowpane—slicing
This is a newer version on a haiku I wrote here. We have four grapefruit halves in the refrigerator now; and the spray of juice on the frosted windowpane. Each morning my daughter forgets the half she cut the morning before.
66: January 11th 2016 | bottlecap