by g. bosacker
In March, persistent sun does charitably glance
through willows to warm molted mountain snow
in meadows where the luminescent beetles dance
indecent pirouettes. The marshy meadows glow
from fertile bugs, skirts upraised, begging for romance,
rushed by impending death to never say no.
0 thoughts on “PROMISCUOUS FIREFLIES”
This poem struck me as having a very Basho haiku quality…there was a neat little piece with glossy pics in last month’s National Geographic retracing Basho’s trek thru Japan’s countryside which gave birth to so many nature poetry. i’m curious to know where this poem was written. ‘Pirouette’…i thought that was a tube shaped cookie…it’s also a dance! And wow!
I didn’t even notice A-B-A-B-A-B rhyme scheme in first couple readings. Equiping fireflies with human qualities is nice touch. i can feel the beauty of this real life in my head.
the voice of the circada
seeps into the rocks
take notice. this is the definition of a short-short story. not as good as those by david meiklejohn, but somehow, equally as relevant. the breaks, the “marshy meadows”…
i propose an initiative to copy this amount and bring different things to the front… with so little
Point taken. I have new respect for the short-short story. Surely it allows for much more than the haiku…it would take what?…5-6 haikus back to back to make a short-short story? …though that’s kind of what it reminded me of…haikus strung together to make a whole. Perhaps i’m just bonkers! ..Probably so.