Off the Cuff / My Other Journal

Haiku

In my life, I suspect, a new fashion of writing in the dark is emerging.
After taking care of two sick people in my house for the last 12 days, one with a bladder infection, the other recuperating from major surgery, I started to think poetry again. Since they are both well enough now, I can fool around with words.
On the same vein, though I don't know why, last night after going to bed, my mind kept coming up with haikus. Since I didn't want to turn on the light and wake my husband up, I wrote a few of those in a pad with a pencil, in the dark. In the morning, I laughed out loud. The lines were wavy, with a lot of white space in between, and even the handwriting didn't resemble my own. Lol! For whatever they are worth, here are four of those haikus:

In adolescence,
I judged with the borrowed tools
of high scorers’ minds.

Gloats her jewelry,
teardrop diamonds, blue gems,
loneliness, the queen.

The hole in the heart,
if the relationship failed,
buried emptiness.

My only support,
you, the one remaining wall
of a bombed-out life.