Remains

(Tanka)

A sprinkle of snow

a white veil covers the moss

caresses spring buds

Winking out Jack Frost’s wedding

Winter’s last conversation

Ellecee

Inspired by

imaginary garden with real toads - in the remains

and

Skywriting - conversation

Cold

It's so cold outside. My fingers are tingling even with woolen gloves on. In spite of this I want to be here, walking. My dog rushes ahead of me sniffing at every track in the snow. Hoping for prey. What would she do if she caught something, I wonder. The trees are talking to me, groaning and snapping even though there is little wind. Perhaps it's from the frost. The snow is soft and billows up around my feet like a heavy mist. The dog pushes her nose through a drift for the thrill of it. I hold my camera steady and take a picture as the dog waits for me on the next hill.

It's a long way home

The snow covers our tracks now

The dog watches me

Reposted for 

Prompt Nights – Winter my dear would be cold without warm memories – [37]

I've chosen the cold without the memories, but the haibun in itself is a memory

so perhaps that will count :-)

Alas #2

Alas

I am

  still

settled in

reading

winter gravestones 

"ellecees"

Imaginary Garden with Real Toads

from Magaly

"today I wish us to

create poetry into which we weave

the titles of 3 of our poems"  

Alas I ended up with more titles :-(

Day 10

Ghost

 

Returning to the cabin

I embrace the silence

in the presence of an old friend

joining me for coffee

in front of the fire

As the heat rises

dust floats aimlessly

above our heads

carrying thoughts

of our lost time

Ellecee

Settled In

The winter has settled in

snow crunches underfoot

ice shatters to shards

mist rises from the lake

as if something warm

lie beneath

The longest night has passed

but still it feels

unending

Ellecee

Winter Gravestones

I am getting older

not too old

but old enough to see

memories in graveyards,

and to ponder,

                                 someone's father who tilled the land

a youth who road a bike on country roads

a farmer's wife who raised chickens

gardens in the fall

winter snow

spring thaw

and how

some things die

while others live forever

if only in our minds

Winter Gravestones

Ellecee

Reposted from Ellecee's Eye

Reading

She is reading:

Rumi - "for I am the candle; burning only makes me brighter"

Neruda - "Some day, some where, unfailingly, you'll find yourself"

Gibran - "your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding"

Angelo - "Now if you listen closely, I'll tell you what I know"

Atwood - "Aren't there enough words, flowing in your veins, to keep you going?"

These distractions for the times when

she has lost her muse,

knowing they will lead her 

back to her

own voice

Ellecee

Seasonal Love

Do we come back around

like the seasons?

The rich juices of  Spring

filling our veins with

 old longings?

This time for planting seeds

available only to

ancient souls such as

ourselves.

Summer bringing the

hope of a

rich harvest

Days mellow with

expectation, 

waiting

for fruition.

Fall bringing

what?

Not the promised

result?

The fruit is not

sweet enough,

the size is smaller

than desirable,

not the best colour,

not the expected

yield?

What kind of garden

have we left, how

much loss is there?

Winter coming in

with its deep chill,

cold winds blow,

the sun is low on

the horizon

No succor available

for parched egos,

Go away, go away

There is silence

The cold, cold silence

of winter creating a

pall over our

landscape.

Is it death or

hibernation?

Is it over?

 Or

merely, as always,

and to be expected,

the changing of

seasons.

Ellecee

COLD

Haibun Reposted from Ellecees Eye

It’s so cold outside. My fingers are tingling even with woolen gloves on. In spite of this I want to be here, walking. My dog rushes ahead of me sniffing at every track in the snow. Hoping for prey. What would she do if she caught something, I wonder. The trees are talking to me, groaning and snapping even though there is little wind. Perhaps it’s from the frost. The snow is soft and billows up around my feet like a heavy mist. The dog pushes her nose through a drift for the thrill of it. I hold my camera steady and take a picture as the dog waits for me on the next hill.

I do this everyday.

It’s a long way home

The snow covers our tracks now

The dog watches me

Ellecee

Grief

Our mind breaks

crumbles really

we can feel the bits

floating about

We can hear tears

dripping on stone

we remember

momentarily,

everything

Ellecee