A Wolf In Haiku Clothing
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I listen to the sighing
of the wind, as I sit
in the cool shade
of a sprawling carob tree,
wondering if Basho,
in heavenly abode,
next to Elysian Fields,
is mumbling agitatedly
under his breath – possibly
grimaces, wrings his hands
as he flips the pages of
vain anthologies where
writers sell their wares…
Stuck in comfort zone
deprived of achievement,
wary of new horizons,
surprise ends and twists…
they cling to restrictions
and Mother Nature’s skirt.
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Pareidolia Poetry Contest
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© 24th August 2020
Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2020
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