We are not the only ones
many will follow:
we print haiku on our skins
and our hair is parted
by three lines.
We are not crazy, but in love
with the essence
of seeing, reflecting and being
Nature. Like
another spring with breezes
cherry blossoms clothe us
old and new friends touch
Gradually
summer night
fireflies of our childhood
where are you?
Miserably
autumn sky
grey again
birds nowhere
So
winter snows
hanging around facebook
haiku after haiku
We are not the only ones
to write, to talk
and print haiku.
Nature speaks for herself.
Yet we fear
one day, our haiku become
the only witness printed
on layers of our clothing
with stillness and sadness.