Haiku Sunday (105-108)


Take me to the wood,
To the secret mountain lakes,
Where no one can hear.

The muted screams and shouts.
Frustration boiling over.
These are troubling days.

Like burnt offerings
I’ll leave my discontent,
For others to find.

I can’t control
The future or change the past.
So I will let go.


Author: Lea

Whether it's fine dining on discourse or nibbling on morsels of delectable villanelles, I appreciate good company, good wine, and a stunning backdrop. I am a mom, tiny houser, vegetarian (flirting with veganism), and a minimalist. I'm a wild woman in a mad world and an explorer of the unexpected.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.