πΒ Β ππππππππ
ππππππΒ Β ππππππ’Β Β ππΒ Β πΒ Β ππππ’
ππΒ Β πππ’ππππππππΒ Β πππππ
Feb 12, 2021
Feb 12, 2021 at 1:51 AM UTC
πΒ Β ππππππππ
ππππππΒ Β ππππππ’Β Β ππΒ Β πΒ Β ππππ’
ππΒ Β πππ’ππππππππΒ Β πππππ
A ππππππππ is a flower I really am fond with because of its delicate paperlike petals; in the rural downtown where I used to live, these are common flowers that come in a variety of colors. But here in the city it mostly grows as a flower-tree. The one I saw the day I made this haiku was that with pink blossoms, by the sidewalk & near the pedestrian lane. As I was waiting for the green light, I remembered there were just buds the last time I glimpsed on it but most of those buds have blossomed into pink bells around that time already. And in the backdrop were the city skyscrapers. It just struck to me how such imagery can be so poetic too. Thinking of a very delicate-looking flower to open not to a rural meadow, or the seaside, but instead in a bustling city where indifference is an element of survival to a life that's as hard as steel.
Haiku1[290121]
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