The theme of this week’s sijo challenge, for which I am once again posting at the last minute, is regrets. I had a TON of ideas this morning and then didn’t finish any until after work. I’ve finished 4 as of this writing and am really hoping to finish at least 1 or 2 more. That would be conducive to a satisfying evening!

Is regretting wise? Careful not to redo too many ripples.
There is perhaps one situation, but if one were to erase it,
Where would be the wintertime, among cycle of seasons?

Ronovan Writes Sijo Challenge Image

Revisiting “River” (again)

I have an older poem, even though it’s not Flashback Friday. Today, I was listening to this song, linked by Andrea, and it brought back memories. I’d never heard that guy singing it, but I like the song, and I remembered that I had written a poem about the song on 12/23/2021. So I thought it would be appropriate to share it; thankfully, it was not in one of the poetry notebooks that I gave to my friends, as I wasn’t sure. 

“Revisiting ‘River'” (12/23/2021)

Here I am, listening again
"I wish I had a river, I could skate away on" --
Not so sad as I was in the past, but
"I wish I had a river, I could skate away on."
That feeling is only momentarily gone
Not sure if it will last 'til Christmas dawn,
Not sure when it comes or goes, or why --
"I'd teach my feet to fly;" 
On that river I can skate away on -- 
Notes of music flowing on and on. 
My brother took this photo a long time ago, and I really like it.

If I Am Persephone…

I was inspired to write this by extending the metaphor a bit from yesterday’s poem. My poor mom.

Persephone gone so much of the year —
Her dear daughter — gone, there is no more Spring,
The leaves also fall as descend her tears,
Then winter wind imitates her wailing.
That missing presence causes constant stings.
She mourns her daughter lost down in the dark,
Small pomegranate seeds have left their mark.

I wanted to spin some words into something positive, but even though some pleasant things happened today, this is the best poem that got written.


Another Sijo poem for this week.

The leaves are dying, but they let go of the trees gloriously.
Whispers of snow coax them; the leaves leap into the unknown, knowing
They need not return to the Spring, to what they used to be.

frost trees
Photo by Krivec Ales on

At the End of January

Haibun Monday at DVerse is all about winter. Linked with Brian’s prompt about assonance because this haibun used a lot of it (I do usually like to use it).

70 degrees, skies only sometimes overcast — is this what passes for winter in California? Many places have snow and storms; this is much nicer by comparison, but today I can’t keep warm. I’ve tried both coffee and chamomile tea, huddling under a soft blanket while reading. Shortly I may decide to snuggle under my bed-covers and hibernate for a while.

a chilly morning
see some blue between the clouds
soft blanket of white

Photo by Tatiana u0410zatskaya on
P.S. I wish I had a cat. 🙂


Flashback Friday.

I wasn’t going to post anything today, but Linda’s challenge tells us to “Just Jot It,” JusJoJan 7, so here is something. I wrote this exactly 3 years ago:

Memento —
Memento mori
Moribund flowers wilt into winter,
Winter sun sleeps early,
Earlier than you think will the grim reaper come,
Come to claim your life, so —

So how are you going to live?

Joy and Sighing

Yesterday was Gaudete Sunday, which means Rejoice, and it is when the third candle, the rose-colored candle, of the Advent wreath is lit. You can see an Advent wreath (not mine) in the picture below. That inspired this décima, for Ronovan’s challenge. It didn’t rain last night, but it’s really gray out today and supposed to rain very soon. Rain tends to make things more difficult for my emotions, but we’ll hope for the best. 🙂

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Flashback Friday: Nocturna

For Fandango’s “Flashback Friday,” I found a few different poems on my blog written on September 24th of past years. There are actually 3 of them that I liked (out of 5, I think). The one I’m reposting is this one because I appreciated being reminded of the “Nocturna” form. I recommend that you browse the archives of my blog and read the others, but I won’t lecture you about it. 🙂

low angle photography of full moon under silhouette of tall trees
Photo by Tom Fisk on

What am I doing up at midnight?

What is this haunting raven for?

I wish she’d raged against the dying of her light —

My maiden beautiful and fair,

My maiden lost too soon, Lenore,

Whose memory is ever there

In the bleakness of December snows,

Amidst my tomes of forgotten lore,

“Nevermore,” the raven croaks — he knows! he knows!