I guess I took too many or overly long naps on Saturday, because when I awakened at 2:30 this morning, I couldn’t get back to sleep. So I finished another Darkover novel: Thendara House.
We are nearly out of Toddy coffee concentrate, and so I’ve put another pound of Folgers medium roast into cold water to steep. I must remember to decant it, this evening. It’s too early to put on a pot of coffee, so I might switch to tea. And fix breakfast.
In the sixties, Haiku were just coming into awareness at the college where I completed my undergraduate degree. After spending my first two years in mathematics, computer programming and chemistry, I transferred into Humanities to pursue a major in English. I had thought to minor in mathematics by completing Differential Equations, but I got sidetracked by other interests and never got back to it.
There were four haiku in the poetry collection returned to me by my sister’s son and his wife in addition to the one on the title page.
An artist sketches
on the fabric of the wind
glide faster and faster down
the breath-clouded pane
Moon behind a shroud
placed in its path by cold winds
thin-blown winter cloud
A butterfly drinks
from the heart of the flower
the heart drinks music