solitude – Garden of Words

Cold Snap Haiku

wind sears the skin
on the hillside in the sun
no way out but through

the cold doesn’t burn
when the sun’s eight fingers high
and the wind is still

waited all year for
this white pine, this blue sky
this empty street

wind moving across the water
birdsong bullfrog
dragonfly chainsaw

when the chainsaw falls still
flash of red
against black wings

blessed solitude
first set of tracks on the trail
corbins cry above

A beautiful poem — visual, verbal, musical — on the virtues of solitude.

“If you’re happy in your head, then solitude is blessed and alone is okay.”