When You’re Not Here

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Days are bleak and cold

Without you here beside me

I feel so alone

Rest assured, dear readers, that I am neither sad nor alone; but the sight of this snow-covered glider speaks of solitude to me, thus prompting the Haiku.

The main rule of Haiku writing, of course, is three lines containing 5, 7 and 5 syllables respectively, but there are many acceptable ways to accomplish that. One popular technique is the “complete thought per two lines” rule. Imagine if I removed the third line. Would the first two lines form a complete sentence or thought? Conversely, if the first line was removed, would the second and third lines be complete? When You’re Not Here is an example of this technique.

Wishing you warmth and contentment today and always,

Grammy

Foto Friday #13

bwbridge

Echo the Footsteps – a haiku

Footsteps, now silent,

resonate as memories

across the old bridge

This bridge is gone now. It was a feature I dearly loved in my neighborhood, but because it was difficult to maintain, the political powers-that-be decided to remove it. I used to go there daily to observe nature, the changing seasons, and either the swift movement or sluggish ripple of the creek below. Dozens of photos like the one above – and my footsteps across this bridge – are cherished memories.

We Are Branches

DSC03213 (4)On the tree of life

rooted by my ancestors

I am but a branch

The word “branch” always means family to me because of my husband’s fondness for genealogy. As he spends hours and hours researching our family history, he continually strives to learn more, to go back farther and farther, and to correct inaccuracies in existing records. When you are aware of the generations that have come before you, you realize what a small twig you are in the grand scheme of things.

My response to today’s one-word prompt: Branch

Photo taken at the city park in Auckland, New Zealand