I was ten when Hurricane Hazel passed over our farm in the Piedmont. I really wanted to see that eye. When the wind stopped howling, I rushed out the back door. In the stillness my eyes were drawn upward.
so quiet
the weeping willow
straightens
the weeping willow
straightens
.
.
by Thomas James Martin
Beaverton, Oregon
1 comment:
this is beautiful, the haiku a perfect way to end the scene.
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