I left, then returned. But the trees remained and remember my story. Now, they stand ready—guides to the soul's new journey.
What was the squirrel trying to say? I'll never know for sure. But one thing is certain: It wasn't very nice. And I was deeply offended.
What was it that caused her to pale? What secrets does this fading rose keep? Only she holds the answers in this mysterious haiku.
Memories, a sad song and insomnia: These elements don't play well together, but at least they supplied the raw materials for a haiku. Let's leave them there, for now.