old pond, a frog jumps: "plop-splash!"
Original: 古池や蛙飛びこむ水の音; Romanized: furu ike ya kawazu tobikomu mizu no oto
furu ike ya [Old Pond] by Matsuo Bashō
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Vanishing [Haiku]
crossing a clearing,
a deer disappears before
eyes can lock on it.
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DAILY PHOTO: Harold Washington Library Center
PROMPT: Favorite Websites
What are your favorite websites?
I guess if time spent on them indicates “favoriteness,” that would be Google, YouTube, and WordPress— in who knows what order.
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Octopus [Free Verse]
Eight arms
seeking eight
different states
of being.
Winding sinuously
toward eight
different ends.
Wrapping opposing
limbs around
antipodal objectives,
it risks tearing
itself in twain…
but knows better.
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First to Fall [Haiku]
by the green river,
one tree prematurely
takes Fall colors.
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DAILY PHOTO: Budapest’s Tiny Sculptures
Fog by Carl Sandburg
The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.
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PROMPT: Re-live
Is there an age or year of your life you would re-live?
If I could do so as the me I am now, I’d do any of them (post-High School,) but if I’d be the me I was at the time, then I don’t see the point. Either way, there would be changes that would ripple through the rest of my life, to varying degrees. I got through largely without unnecessary tragedy, I’d as likely screw it up as improve upon it.
If nothing downstream could be changed, that would be like watching a boring documentary that had none of the tedious parts cut out. Like watching the 17 days a wildlife photographer sat freezing his ass off uneventfully before he got footage of a snow leopard. I really don’t see the point of that.
Life is beautiful because one has no idea what it might bring.
