I caught a certain joyousness
In a potter’s wheel,
The pedal turns the morning rain
Upon my windowsill.
I found a flawless form of light
In a Blacksmith’s Arms,
She called me from a willow trunk
And brought me out of harm.
I followed through a rabbit hole
The image of myself,
Rolling down a childhood hill,
For childhood was my wealth.
And though my wealth was stolen,
And placed upon a bark,
I sailed across an ocean bare
And dreaming in the dark.
Nothing good may come this way
To remedy what’s past;
That isolated bairn has gone,
The future now is cast.
Tag: memories
Haiku #579
579.
Many memories
That pained me, and that was a
Way to explain me.
Haiku #387
387.
Memories still hurt,
Yet looking ahead stares death.
Locked down, now and then.