collecting my gear . . .
paint brushes, bucket, ladder
college diploma
Tag Archives for writing
futile attempts
do I care for you
futile attempts have been made . . .
do you care for me
my reach
following my reach . . .
the old passes into new
if not now, then soon
ethereal rime
daybreak winter park
light sparkles on frozen ice . . .
ethereal rime
Blog Migration – new blog: refractedmoon.com
It’s that time again… :) I think I’ve made the move in my mind already. On to another blog with my haiku. Another blog migration. This one has filled up with haiku. So it’s time to add another leaf to my haiku tree. Hmmm. I wonder if that domain name is taken? lol If not, well – don’t take it before I get there! hahaha
I will probably add to this post, as soon as I make the decision as to what blog is the next wordpress “official home” of me and my haiku.
To be continued…
So, since I already have another blog ready to go (and I’ve been posting to it from time to time) I’m going to use I’ve decided to continue with my blog refractedmoon. If any of you bloggers and haiku fans want to read some of my new haiku, you will need to look there, mostly. I’ll still write a few haiku here, and even on Haiku Pause. I still love this blog and Haiku Pause. I just don’t need to keep expanding them 1000 haiku per year or more! :)
You know, in her comment left on my new blog (not all that new, really) Sarah Whitely, my good poet friend) says that what I keep doing is more of a blog migration (not as much of a blog mitosis, as I had been calling it) like birds. I really like that. She knows something about what’s going on with me, through my haiku writing, and blog behavior. So that’s the term we’re using now – we likey! :) A blog migration. It really is more like a migration, when I think about it. How does she know me better than me? :)
Be sure to visit Sarah’s blog ebbtide
different ilk
what if I get fixed
and being fixed spells trouble . . .
a different ilk
orange wings
over and above
the quiet moon discloses . . .
orange wings of dawn
won’t hold up
my thoughts won’t hold up . . .
all this deep fried scrutiny
totally rendered
ball and chain
my words are steel bars
designed to imprison you . . .
ball and chain for life
nonchalant
chilly autumn air
but the sun still throws its rays . . .
nonchalant, these birds