Featuring cherita!

November 27, 2016

Happy Haiga Day!

Trying to work my way through the election--still... A poem for today (possibly more hopeful than I feel).

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved. "Grey November" by Bruce Crane, courtesy The Athenaeum.

Late November 2016

Today's wind unpredictable.
In its howl a prescient bitterness.

Buds, promises for the future,
enter a state of dormancy.

Squirrels have buried and birds
have pooped possibility.

Old color now underfoot, new
color exists only in potentiality.

The anticipated mantle of
white will come. With weight.

Nothing is certain, but this: dormant
is not dead and acorns will wait.


  1. Every day a new day to see if there's something else I can do to make a difference. I like that no matter how these days have gone, you've put in some hope, Diane.

  2. Replies
    1. I love that you used,"holy moly," Janet! How many other un-holy things do we put together? Holy cow, holy sh**t, holy guacamole, holy smokes (my late father used that one), holy mother of god (reminds me of Andy M.)...

  3. Holy mackerel. Andy (Which is exactly the response my faux Uncle Joe had to whatever I was blathering on about as a young child. "Holy mackerel, Andy!")

    1. Oh, yes, from the "Amos and Andy Show." I cringe to think about watching it all those years ago.

    2. That's one of the problems with being a small child in the late 50s early 60s. God knows what racist garbage we were exposed to with no context in which to put it. I'm probably carrying around countless bits of hideous junk I don't realize is hideous junk. The obvious stuff (jump rope rhymes I shan't repeat) I grew to recognize for what it was. The subtle stuff is there, waiting to pop out to reveal my ignorance. Now I'm cringing, too. I know about Amos and Andy but I don't remember watching the show or knowing Uncle Joe's response went beyond me and him. Thanks, faux Uncle Joe.

  4. you read the birds' poop, Amazing, and there I was frowning over the ones here

    Have a nice Monday

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