counting breaths or not counting; cockscombs, poets come and go Published by Debi Bender D.W. Bender (lacewing at paperlanterns.net) is Development Advisor for the World Haiku Club and the Editor-in-Chief of its online magazine, the World Haiku Review. Her personal website is Paper Lanterns. An artist and poet, Debi lives in Orlando, Florida, USA. View all posts by Debi Bender
praying never again as she sleeps, winter eve – counting each breath – winter refuses to let go – his last gasp – winter unannounced — his last season – poet’s winter last utterance – to be or not – Reply
celosia cristata – flowers of crimson, perhaps purple, a rose – young opossum not making it cross the night — poets die young Reply
lulling
by the river
the sweet verses it utters
frosty breaths inside
house vacant
for six freezing weeks
praying never again
as she sleeps, winter eve –
counting each breath
–
winter refuses to let go –
his last gasp
–
winter
unannounced —
his last season
–
poet’s winter
last utterance –
to be or not
–
counting breaths
the murmer of a poem
clatters out of silence
celosia cristata –
flowers of crimson,
perhaps purple, a rose
–
young opossum
not making it cross the night —
poets die young