Flight-Route*
(Five Haiku)
©November 12th, 2017
By Vijaya Sundaram
Birds fly south by rote
A route forged and forced by time –
Still, we find meaning.
And in those meanings
We etch those pathways in gold,
And the air quivers.
It matters not that
Life is leaves whirling in dust –
There’s strange beauty there.
It matters little
If we’re remembered, or not –
Our ghosts’ echoes ring.
Work, play, love and lust
Beat their futile wings against
Unseen glass. Just laugh.
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*In response to Three Sisters by Anton Chekhov.