a modern haikai in 12 parts

On a busy street

I catch the eye of a guy

as he drives by.

He smiles and speeds on,

an instant of connection.

And then I stand alone

A woman nearby

remarks, What a chill wind! I say,

But it’s refreshing.

She laughs. Yes, we’ll call it

“Refreshing.” Then she jogs on

And I stand alone

I held a child, a boy

A minute, an hour, a year.

But he, too, passed on

Still I stand, alone

We build tall towers.

Citadels, they shield us

From our solitude.

Our skyscrapers soar,

yet the sky is still more vast,

a tyranny above.

We deny our solitude,

commission our best artists

to adorn our walls,

churches, and asylums,

all to glorify our facades.

And while they crumble,

we Whos in Whoville,

lost souls on a speck of dust,

flying among the stars,

as one with the heavens,

must embrace the brutal burden

of our own exile.

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