Transition

rusty skeletons frigid granite sky the fifth season

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Date: 12/28/2023 4:36:00 PM

Intriguing poetry, Arlo. You leave a lot of leeway for the reader to think about. Have a great 2024, my friend. Bill

Arlo Parker
Date: 12/29/2023 3:06:00 PM

Happy to let you interpret as your mind choses, TB. New year do close...best wishes for the Best Year Ever!!!

Date: 12/28/2023 4:19:00 PM

I liked your Haiku but am left pondering what the fifth season is....perhaps it's just those days when the sky is cold as granite...

Arlo Parker
Date: 12/28/2023 9:06:00 PM

You got it...a period between Winter/Spring thaw. Thx 4 stopping by. :o)

Date: 12/28/2023 2:43:00 PM

Death would be the fifth season. I would have a pine box sky... Maybe some roots. Ed

Arlo Parker
Date: 12/28/2023 9:06:00 PM

Beg to differ...just "dead time" between 01/01 and 03/01. No root harmed in the writing of this piece. Looking forward to your Haiku, EE. :o)

Tom Woody
Date: 12/28/2023 7:03:00 PM

Ooh I pick this one. Nice Ed

Date: 12/28/2023 2:39:00 PM

Ahhh and what is this fifth season, O haiku maestro?

Tom Woody
Date: 12/29/2023 5:46:00 AM

Here in Ne Ohio we just call it plain old winter

Arlo Parker
Date: 12/28/2023 9:03:00 PM

That time of gloom between 01/01 and 03/01.