Snow people once stood
Where green spikes pierce thru damp soil
Sand shifts endlessly
Spring paints with blossoms
Bursting forth on stem and tree
Grief remains inside
By Jo Lesher
Snow people once stood
Where green spikes pierce thru damp soil
Sand shifts endlessly
Spring paints with blossoms
Bursting forth on stem and tree
Grief remains inside
By Jo Lesher
I tried my hand at Haiku for the Poet’s Corner and gave it to our able leader, Margaret Simpson. She submitted it rather quickly to yourgoodlife.org blog. And, there’s the rub. I constantly write and re-write what I’ve written. Usually I begin by writing something long and rambling then condense, condense, condense. There’s no need to condense Haiku as syllables are counted, 5-7-5. Still, there’s often a word to be changed. And that is true of the 2nd Haiku “Spring.” Before I realized that it had been published, I had changed just one word to more truly express what I was trying to say for my friend of over 60 years, Jaen. She died two days before “Haiku Spring” was written. The fact that the change that I’d made was not included has been bugging me ever since. If you’re interested in what I changed, please re-read that poem but change the very last word from “inside” to “within.” It would then read: “Grief remains within.” What a nit-picker am I?! Jo Lesher