Mellow by Geraint Rowland
Dawn draws a soft line,
splits the day open, pushes
Night gently aside.
Where is the shadow
of your hip, the low murmur
of your dreams, quiet
truce of our awakening?
Even this thin light deepens
in time, makes its way
from one end of one day
to another, despite
the promise of nothing.
Stay in that bright sliver,
keep breathing the low
hum of that last song
we listened to, you
know the one: crushed guitar,
beaten drums, a voice
alone in the dark.
While the Seattle Missed Connections takes the award for greatest frequency of haiku, I did occasionally find haiku and haiku-like pieces in other places – like this one from Columbus, GA.
