In which Your Humble Blogger plays with a moment in which very little needs to be said:
"A Note Found on a Door"
Fingertips, meeting on a doorknob,
send letters across the palms.
The door opens. Words stumble inside.
They shed their order onto the glorious floor.
* * *
I love it when I find items at the library that I totally didn't go there looking for. Yesterday's trip scored me a book called The Haiku Handbook by William J. Higginson. I hadn't heard of it before, and I don't know much about it except that, in its introductory chapters, the author mentions the three poets considered the masters of haiku (Basho, Buson, and Issa -- I haven't read Buson yet, but I've heard the name). So I trust this book, and I'm really looking forward to learning more about how to write in super-short forms effectively and enjoy them even more.
'Cause, if you haven't noticed yet, I really like short-form poetry.