When The Bough Breaks
(Haikus in Succession)
My limbs crack. Bough breaks—
Winter exacts its fierce due.
“Hold on … Spring will come.”
Gales smirk— smashing,
Thrashing, stripping Summer’s kiss.
“Hold on … Spring will come.”
Ice slices, butchers—
Now it’s too late. I’m dying…
“Just wait. Spring — ” No!
Shut up. Darkness
Feasts. Nothing is left! Nothing!
Just a ravaged shell.
Leave my remains
To this lonely, silent hell.
I no longer care!
Winter’s clutch loosens.
Warmth nettles in and wraps my
Damaged, frozen heart.
It hurts … feeling again.
Soil seeps into my wounds,
Coaxes me to grow.
I can’t; I’m broken.
“Yes, you can. You’re alive, strong —
A perennial.”
No, I’m crushed, bitter —
I don’t want the sun. Ever.
“Sigh… Let the dark go.”
Why? At least it’s safe.
No pain, no more loss; I’m numb.
“The light will heal you.”
Until when? Autumn?
“You will see. Give Spring a chance.”
One bud and that’s all…
A single, green shoot,
Stretched toward sun. Kissed — transformed. Ah.
Healing... Spring has come.
