Winter day:
bright sunlight at cloud's end --
glassy river.
Edge of Weather [Haiku]
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Boulders, precariously perched
on the edge of a precipice.
Do the residents
of the huts
down the mountain
ever think of that boulder?
Maybe they thought not being
directly under it would keep
them safe, but what bounce
might a boulder take --
freefalling, tumbling, hitting
outcrops, sliding on scree,
cracking to fragments,
being not spherical in the least,
and so on?
My guess is that they never think
about it... or think about it
every minute.
And in some moment when
they aren't thinking of it...
SPLAT!
When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy,
And the dimpling stream runs laughing by;
When the air does laugh with our merry wit,
And the green hill laughs with the noise of it;
When the meadows laugh with lively green,
And the grasshopper laughs in the merry scene,
When Mary and Susan and Emily
With their sweet round mouths sing 'Ha, Ha, He!'
When the painted birds laugh in the shade,
Where our table with cherries and nuts is spread,
Come live & be merry, and join with me,
To sing the sweet chorus of 'Ha, Ha, He!'