The Bishop and the Butterfly: Murder, Politics, and the End of the Jazz Age
MrSmith1's picture

Still more Friday afternoons at the Haiku-lodeon!

 

This week's heap of haikus:
 
 
 
 
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No wishful thinking
can turn apples into plums.
Apple sauce? Perhaps
 
 
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Clearly embarrassed,
The teen excuses herself
and runs from the room.
 
 
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Strolling through the park,
I can feel my focus shift.
Nature affects me.
 
 
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One day too many,
in a month already stuffed,
with hilarity.
 
 
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Take a chance, today.
Put your fears aside and LEAP
into the unknown.
 
 
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I search behind doors
and under beds and sofas ...
where are you hiding?
 

 

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When you have a lot
that's on your mind, let your day
begin quietly.
 
 
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Walking through meadows
just before sunrise, is worth
some wet trouser cuffs.
 
 
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I met a rabbit
this morn, in a dew-y glen,
I nodded, he hopped.
 
 
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Pies on windowsills
send aromas wafting through
a nearby schoolyard.
 
 
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Inside of your mind
are vast landscapes to explore.
discover yourself.
 
 
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Can we ever let
Love truly know our hearts? Must
shadows' hints suffice?
 
 
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His mind still wanders
but knows not to stray too far
from the neighborhood.
 
 
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Why not happiness?
Each day it IS an option.
Let yourself choose it.
 
 
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Sometimes I forget
my youth has abandoned me ...
and I walk alone.
 
 
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Its been a long day
and we've both said way too much ...
we should go to bed.
 
 
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Ten, Jack, Queen, King ... Four.
(sigh) It's time to leave the game
and settle my debts.
 
 
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Under the table,
she rubbed her foot 'gainst his leg,
hoping' he'd poker.
 
 
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A humid morning,
across the street, some workers
sip coffee and smoke.
 
 
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Her winter sweaters
neatly folded, placed with care
in a cedar chest.
 
 
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Anguished and in pain,
she never thought that her life
would end up like this.
 
 
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Coral begonias
offer a quiet contrast
to those yellow mums.
 
 
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Dilapidated,
that grist mill at river's edge,
once fed a small town.
 
 
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She has such a smile,
it can send him to the moon.
So, he makes her laugh.
 
 
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