through I write my name
there is no permanence to
what’s written in snow
i like much
I like these little bite-sized word pictures of yours.
You must be in the snow zone. Here, I write my name on the beach near the water. It’s what the sandman knows.
Keep it up.
Thanks, Alice. Say hi to the sun for me. I am in the Buffalo, NY snow belt.
Thank you, Gabby!
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Thoughtful haiku Susan, I know all about writing in snow 🙂
I love that. It could apply to poems written on sick computers! I had made a flashdisk of possible collections for submission. The flashdisk was corrupted somehow and I have to start again.
Oh, how horrible, Viv. I am sorry you have lost work. Awful thing.
Love this! Simple, but potent image, makes me think of childhood
What’s written is written; if read, hopefully remebered. What it’s written on matters not. Enjoyed this work considerably.
Ron, thank yo so much, You are right. The permanence of the words resides in memory, not what they were first scratched on to become.
a metaphor for life…nicely done…
deep! says a lot.
…at least in the visible form.
A lovely truth 🙂
Smart haiku. Like spoken words blowing in the wind… nothing.
So true and so wise!
Like snow, names written on sand of time too have no permanence.
Nice thought and haiku!
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