“Welcome to the desert of the real.”
–Morpheaus, from the movie, The Matrix
An ever-drying aridity. Step after step across a desert stretching to the horizon. Only the memory of water.
Such an exhaustion that the expression “dead on my feet” is a declaration of enthusiasm. Here, in the heart of the desert, words come as easily as the precious drops acrued on a solar sill.
Yet the only way out is through…
winter wind
the last patch of
dying grass
I’m hosting dVerse Poets’ Haibun Monday, where we’re writing about heart.
The pub is open! Come join us!
Share the love. Spread the haikai:
Categories: haikai, haiku community
Frank J. Tassone 
Bravo!!! Luv this
Happy you dropped by to read mine
Much❤love
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Very nicely done, Frank!
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Thanks, Dwight!
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You are welcome!
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This is a fantastic ready. You made every word count. Impressive.
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Thank you!
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Wonderful write! 🙂
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Thank you!
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🙂
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Yes, winter is as arid as a parched summer.
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So true!
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Ah, the journey through, not just survival, but movement.
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Indeed!
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I’d forgotten that expression, but I too know how it feels…may your oasis be just around the next bend. (K)
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Thanks, K! Here’s to hoping so!
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we once had a business unit manager that described our joint journey to improve as a journey through the desert… it didn’t inspire many
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It’s like that sometimes. Thanks, Bjorn! 😀
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Beautifully done ❤
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Thank you!
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