In this thread, you can
create some haiku for all
the Dopers to read.
My orthodoxy
in writing this poetry
celebrates my world.
A fossil tumor
(Paleo-oncology?):
Faithless cells now stone.
The clouds are giants
sitting in their northern realm.
Are they the sky’s sons?
As the dead leaves fall
I compose my poetry.
Verses to be read.
The wild gusty wind
plays havoc with the people
but it knows no shame.
As I drink my chai
poking at my keyboard’s keys,
I count syllables.
The old Montanans
sitting in musty diners
sip their hot coffee.
Greedily, the Sun
takes most of the Earth’s colors
leaving the ground pale.
Both my small Corgis
would enjoy going outside
although it is cold.
When the moon rides high
my spirit sings out to it
keenly as a blade.
Even the most trite
and simple observances
can become haiku.
The cold air has come
out of the north-western lands.
Finally, we freeze!
My cat Yowler died
after finding some poison.
I’ll miss him always.
