Teaching

Stuck.

Birds fan themselves;
in heat they witness
my slow foundation -
so slow nothing builds.

For me, no road.
Even rodents quickly
scurry upon the ground,
finding nourishment,
strength.

Soil. With grubs,
manure, the dead -
not my only refuge,
but my only.

A hoped-for flowering,
a temporary beauty.
Beneath the heat -
before the cold -
a sign things might
be better.

One Comment

  • Great haiku.. teaching is like learning, we teach what we have already learned and relay it to others.

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