Mark M. Redfearn
Haiku
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May
23
If I were a cup
empty after spring’s great feast,
who would fill me up?
May
21
I take from the shelf
yet another empty cup—
spring melancholy.
May
5
So little is left
of the tea in my white cup—
an old pine topples.
Dec
1
First day of the month—
the tea in my cup grows cold
along with my prayers.
Nov
29
My father once drank
from the cup that I now drink—
deepening autumn.
Nov
21
Smoky autumn tea—
I marvel at the blessings
nestling in my cup.
Oct
14
First autumn cold snap—
my hands cradle a white cup
filled with steaming tea.
Sep
15
Late-summer breakfast—
black coffee leaks from a crack
in my old white cup.
Jan
31
Winter solitude—
tea leaks slowly from the crack
in my old white cup.
Nov
21
the tea in my cup
diluted with morning light—
autumn solitude
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