I witnessed this haiku: a checkout line at a grocery store, all of us buying last-minute items for a holiday dinner, and I couldn’t tell if the woman was weeping tears of sadness or joy.
“I couldn’t tell”–that’s the beauty of what you’ve captured here. Not the closure of cynicism or of sentimentality, cynicism’s bright-eyed sister, but a humble openness to the mysteries of being human.
You wonder whether they are tears of sadness or joy, and you wonder what might have been the trigger for the tears. Was it something she saw or heard, or perhaps it was something she was thinking about.
Simply written, but it has a nice depth to it. Very effective.
I witnessed this haiku: a checkout line at a grocery store, all of us buying last-minute items for a holiday dinner, and I couldn’t tell if the woman was weeping tears of sadness or joy.
Beautiful – the ambiguity of the tears hold all the emotions that this season can contain.
“I couldn’t tell”–that’s the beauty of what you’ve captured here. Not the closure of cynicism or of sentimentality, cynicism’s bright-eyed sister, but a humble openness to the mysteries of being human.
Christmas eve —
the woman in the checkout line
blinking back tears
Quite wonderful, Sue. May your tears all be ones of joy.
well done. If you would choose to send a few poems to bear creek haiku, welcome to do so (address on internet)
g’day Sue,
This really is good. Most appropriate and successfully emotive.
Peace and Love
B
xmas eve shopper
at the register, blinking back tears
store clerk
You wonder whether they are tears of sadness or joy, and you wonder what might have been the trigger for the tears. Was it something she saw or heard, or perhaps it was something she was thinking about.
Simply written, but it has a nice depth to it. Very effective.
Christmas
on the other side
of grief
the wonder
of love…
for my parents, Harold and Enola Borgh
Wonder-full, Sue. It captures the mix of emotions this season can generate.
Beautiful, Sue. The ambiguity and sense of mystery are so moving.
Having just lost my granddaughter, 29 years old, that woman could have been me.