tiny tousled stalks release a pollen plume hush: here; hush: gone
Pollen [Haiku]
2
One burning moment -- taffy-stretched to the edge of reason: stretched so broadly that one can't fathom escape - like Monkey on the Buddha's palm One burning idea -- cloned, and then carved to make infinite variants, and painted infinite shades: the dark tone of each darker than the last Burning ideas populating the vast expanse of a burning moment, until the urge to escape insists that one carve a hatch into living tissue But what is it that does the stretching of the burning moment & the cloning of the burning idea? Can't that stretcher and cloner be wound back, scaling all to proper proportions? And can't it be done before that terminal instant is carved in jagged stone?
I A young man set his ex-fiancé on fire. (Or, so the story goes. [He claims she self-immolated.]) She succumbed to third-degree burns... but not right away. She lived long enough to know the agony of third-degree burns. They'd met in college, both studying to be engineers -- I mention that because at the heart of the issue was caste. It seems absurd enough to murder a fiancé over some imaginary mark of superiority, but even more so when one considers that they would have had the same qualification -- possibly similar jobs -- but for the boy's bigoted parents, who insisted he call off the engagement, and the boy, himself, who took things that extra murderous mile. So, it wasn't even about who the couple were, it was about what their grandfathers did for a living. What a world. II The war is still burning. Among the latest questions are: Will Belarus be forced to join in the fighting? & If so, will having another set of soldiers who are completely uninterested in the war -- other than as a trial to be survived, that is -- help or hurt Putin's position? A related question is whether Putin would rather watch the world burn than to lose face? What a world. III The Pandemic said, "Psyche!" This means America will roll the odometer on COVID deaths. We had things almost back to normal, and then the virus caught its breath, got it's footing,... whatever viruses do. What a world. *** I think I'll check the news, again, maybe sometime next year.
1.) If you spend more time each day faultfinding than feeling grateful, your philosophy is fucked. 2.) Drop useless ideas as one would drop a flaming marshmallow. 3.) If you shop recreationally, consider square dancing or kung fu. 4.) No idea should be beyond critique, but you don't have to be an ass about it.

monkey pod blossoms,
even in pouring rain,
stay peppy
My walk is in the early hours, in dawn's buttery light. There's a gold glint to all that's pale, whether a wall of white or waters of a placid lake or eucalyptus trunks or on the waving Pampas grass or on the robes of monks. And by the time I've lost that light, the walking hour is done. And I'll be looking forward to when next the day is dun.