5,7,5 – 365 4th January 2016
A haiku and a diary entry, every now and then, for a year
I had planned to write (that’s five syllables). Christmas would give me the time (there’s seven). But I did nothing (and five again).
Oh well, I could make a timely resolution to try harder but those never stick. Besides, I’m enjoying this, why take the fun out of it? I’ve had some really encouraging feedback and I’m reading some inspiring work on here. I shall continue, pretend it was a planned Christmas break and not beat myself up over missed blogs.
Happy New Year.
5,7,5 – 365
22nd December 2015
A haiku, and a diary entry, every day for a year.
Yesterday, the gloomiest of days, marked the winter solstice – the year’s shortest day and its longest night. I can be pretty gloomy myself, even on the longest and brightest of days, but these annual events, marking the passage of time, always lead me to reflect on what has and will be lost. On this dark morning, when I look at Laila, who grows ever more beautiful, I’m am once again struck by the relentless passage of time; what we once were has been lost, what we are now will soon no longer be, what we become too shall fade.
The days grow longer
Another year behind us
Our days grow shorter
5,7,5 – 365
30th November 2015
A haiku, sometimes two, and a diary entry, every day for a year.
It’s Monday morning and there is little to cheer me up on the drive to the station. It’s dark this morning, the skies are heavy grey and it’s raining. As it begins to get a little lighter, the naked, art print trees stand out black against the sky, doing nothing to lift my mood. Once sat on the train I play around with the words for a haiku with no help from iOS 9, which offers up the wrong words as I type or mistakes an opening line for an attempted diary entry.
Against wet grey skies
Stark black and white photo trees
Darkening my mood
Grey Monday morning
iPad offers of diary
Helpful but soulless
5,7,5 – 365 23rd November 2015
A haiku and a diary entry, every day for a year.
This morning my windscreen is frozen over. After the stormy winds of last week, the air is still and sharp with frost. Smoke rises from the chimneys of Dowsby and Dunsby, and I smell wood and coal smoke even in the car. In contrast to the cold, the sky in the East glows warm pinks and red.
Still frosted morning
Smell of burning wood and coal
Ember glowing sky
5,7,5 – 365
11th November 2015
A haiku and a diary entry, every day for a year. All in no particular order.
I’m behind on my blog, I have a gig to write up and another important event but they are still works in progress. So Diary entries and haiku may appear out of synch. It doesn’t really matter, I hop back and forth in my head and the blog will just reflect that.
In the meantime, over a coffee in my favourite weekday haunt, with no willow in sight, I came up with the following.
The Willow weeping
Cries golden tears to the wind
For Winter draws near