Mark Foote

of our own being is given our row to hoe in our hands, our fate

not hardly ever always, sometimes, maybe so wind moves in the trees

given sense of pride, trees bloom, and flowers blossom not hardly ever

no self reflections wide open space, empty cup must be about time

mind empty, like sky quick, quick! the brown fox jumps in over the dead dog

when writing haiku the parting shot must sail on past the barricades

half a million old not necessarily young just then, the wind lifts

right to yore front door the door of yore, at the lake half a million old

glistening sky song blue and orange on the water no other, resting (I cheat, yes )

Manitou's response to my previous haiku, which I liked (and she deleted): hand in hand, alone they feel the current of love under fuschia skies Earl Grey's response to my haiku: Hand in hand, alone, “your hand in mine”: Explosions in the Sky: great band! My haiku, to follow Earl Gray's: in the sky: great band ears to hear the sky's wavelength few and far between

Music to deaf ears A sight for blind eyes--walking hand in hand, alone

regarding haiku it's hard not to say too much I have a big mouth

like "if on a night..." a challenging first, for sure the last, an offer

I'm smiling again Must have been something I ate sure can't be the news

as shrug about it, they would as soon--immortals, such total cutups!