“A poem is the very image of life expressed in its eternal truth.”
Percy Bysshe Shelley

Monday, July 8, 2013

Always Transforming


The icicles drip
steadily as the air warms.
Do they know their end?

With the sun rising,
icicles break off and fall,
a steady clatter.

Remnants on the ground
turn into ice or water,
always transforming.

4 comments:

Judy at Peace Be With You said...

Icicles might seem like a strange theme in summer. However, though it is summer in the northern hemisphere, it is the middle of winter in the southern hemisphere. A haiku triptych about icicles might then not seem so extraordinary. In any case, whilst in blazing heat, one can get nostalgic about icicles.

Muffie said...

Judy, thanks for the cooling words, as I, too, sit and melt and clatter!
Peace,
Muff

Kim @ Stuff could... said...

this is a nice reminder of cooling off...icicles

Judy at Peace Be With You said...

Muff and Kim, I'm glad I brought you cooling thoughts.