July 17th 2016

Sometimes I think my best coinages happen because of my absent-minded reading. I often misread words, even my own, and decide the misreading is better than the original intent. Thinking of my moth in the downpour, I keep reading down as dawn, as if my muse would remind me that there’s another revelation there.
·
no
····trail to follow—the moth fluttering into
········dawn
·
I like to think a haiku like this captures something of an experience I had—a brush with death and a glimpse of a world I’d call home. A moth may live out its life in darkness until some given dawn when it flies where none follow, at least for a little while.
·di
rows
····of grackles on the powerline—all of them
········critics
·
·
·
254 July 17th 2016 | bottlecap
·

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