Haikus.
************
Quoi Où Quand
Jeudi. Le midi.
Cimetière du Père-Lachaise.
La vingtième. Paris. France.
The Season
Early October.
When the leaves begin to fall.
Vibrant, but wilting.
The Textures
Moss. Stone. Broken Glass.
Rose. Daisy. Fern. Empty vase.
Wood. Pine. Feather. Soil.
The Colours of The Textures
Bright green. Muted grey.
Violet-yellow-magenta.
Muted green. Bright grey.
The Sounds
Whispers. Chirps. The wind.
Yes, the silence makes a sound.
Crunch crunch. I walk on.
The First Sign of Human Life
Just one hearse.Flowers in the trunk.
Flowers in the trunk.
Blooms for tomb.
The Second Sign of Human Life Taking a bench rest.
Taking a bench rest.Backpacks. iPhones. Four-fold map.
Backpacks. iPhones. Four-fold map.
They want to see Jim.
The City That Always Sleeps The dirt paths are streets.
The dirt paths are streets.The
The tombstones are skyscrapers.
The citizens are souls.
The Citizens
One million of them.All their stories, families, lives. Just a name on
All their stories, families, lives.
Just a name on rock.
The Paradox
This is not Paris.City within the city. Some call it their home.
City within the city.
Some call it their home.
The Paradox II
To be alive here.
Is to be the minority.
We are outsiders.
The Paradox III
Five others are here.
It still feels like too many.
We are unwelcomed.
How Do They Rest in Peace?
I don’t know if it
Is intrusive to come here.
Disturbing their rest.
How Many Biographies?
Each body a book.
Cimetière Bibliotheque.
Five lifetimes to read.
The Paradox IV
Clean, well-kept, quiet.
What a strange way to present
A million messy lives.
Church
City on a hill.Mystery
Mystery souls passed away.
Closer to heaven.