“Forget Me Nots”
A Haibun Poem

I am hungry for meaning.
Struggle. Trauma. Fight.
Hard stares inward exhaust my own reflection.
The muck always drags me to a trudge as I pull bootstraps from sealing cement. My bare feet, booting boots, find grass. Troubles drain away into cool green blades between toes and tickled arches as fragrance fills my senses. I let go of me.

Fresh Forget Me Nots
Ego Death nourishes life.
Fertile soil births blooms.