the slow time
between freeze and thaw
what am I waiting for?

 

14 Responses

  1. dhunterb Says:

    Excellent.

  2. Lynne Rees Says:

    Thank you.

  3. magyar Says:

    __ Nifty Lynn, we wait for the sounds of spring; as the crow answers that screeching sound of the slow, season's gate.

    as this gate
    swings on its rusty hinges
    the crow

  4. Lynne Rees Says:

    Thank you – I love 'slow season's gate'.

  5. john Says:

    Please unsubscribe me

  6. magyar Says:

    A hint: check >subscribe< functions upper left corner, this page.

  7. janewilliams Says:

    I found this so layered, rereading until it moved me from nature to human nature …

    the argument still fresh
    a blank slate
    between thought and act
    who
    will make the first move

  8. Lynne Rees Says:

    Thanks, Jane. And for your lovely tanka response too.

  9. Alan Summers Says:

    the slow time
    between freeze and thaw
    what am I waiting for?

    —LYNNE REES

    I often feel that we, as humans, put ourselves on hold, as if we the cold caller and the customer combined. :-)

    I've written a lot about waiting including this verse from a tanka story (aka 'tanka prose'):

    this waiting room
    of ladders
    I run to the sky
    so every bell rings out
    with your musk

    Alan Summers

    From Strange Bed, an ekphrastic tanka story
    ’Strange Bed’ by David Cobley?
    oil on linen 12x12in (30.5 x 30.5cm)

    Publication:
    Blithe Spirit (Journal of the British Haiku Society)
    Vol. 27 no. 1 (February 2017)
    .
    .

  10. Lynne Rees Says:

    Thanks for your response, Alan.

  11. vijay Says:

    This beautiful poem brings focus on several aspects of waiting. For me, waiting
    also conjures up memories, which reminds me of a Tanka i had written a while ago.
    these Alpine slopes
    an avalanche of
    her memories
    entrain my descent
    into the valley of subconscious

  12. hoa tuoi Says:

    thank so much, i like post

  13. seaviewwarrenpoint Says:

    A thought-provoking haiku, Lynn. L3 clearly shows frustration and even desperation. The narrator is fed up with being indoors during the colder months and feels it is so long that even the prospect of spring isn't enough to combat those winter blues. L3 is a "what's the point of anything" type cry. I know this feeling!

    marion

  14. seaviewwarrenpoint Says:

    Ooops – apologies for misspelling your name, Lynne!

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