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A Cup Runneth Over
Another haibun, mixture prose and haiku, was going to put it into short story or other but to me, it still held the poetry feel to it, or as I wrote it, I had it in mind.
Some nights are better, indeed, the wind held its breath at times, waiting, always waiting for our first kiss. I miss those moments; now long dead, they lay in a puddle at our feet. Memories, once cherished, become like a drawing…erased…discarded…forgotten heaps, recycled emotions for another, perhaps?
During the day I have begun to simplify my existence by walking the riverbanks near my home. I roll green pebbles, slick with algae between my callused fingers, it soothes me, takes me away from this world. Those tiny stones so eroded by time, seem to match our circumstances, perhaps in polishing them I wish to bring out some of the beauty I know that’s inside. Have we lost our definition, what made us distinct? Cannot a pebble give hope to a future? I don’t know, but I can’t stop trying.
I lean against a large oak tree; it is my best friend of late and listen to the gurgling waters. I guess your love of the ocean still holds its sway within me. A morning tide to pull me in - an evening tide to push me away. Such is love’s confusion.
I wonder, before you were mine and if you still are. Did you hold onto happiness, clutch it tightly to your chest, feel the warmth of another’s smile, and drink from love’s chalice? Has that cup finally runneth over; spilt to the ground? I see such passion in you so as I lay hear naked and kneeling, in faded hope, I raise my cupped hands on hope they will do.
sunrise’s failure
to pierce my shadow’s domain
let’s our darkness grow
TL
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