yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #1
by michael r. burch
plagued by the Plague
i plague the goldfish
with my verse
yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #2
by michael r. burch
sunflowers
hang their heads
embarrassed by their coronas
I wrote this poem after having a sunflower arrangement delivered to my mother, who is in an assisted living center and can't have visitors due to the coronavirus pandemic.
homework: yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #3
by Michael R. Burch
dim bulb overhead,
my silent companion:
still imitating the noonday sun?
yet another iffy coronavirus haiku #4
by Michael R. Burch
Spring fling—
children string flowers
into their face masks
New World Order (last in a series and perhaps of a species)
by Michael R. Burch
The days of the dandelions dawn...
soon man will be gone:
fertilizer.
Epitaph for a Little Child Lost
by Michael R. Burch
I lived as best I could, and then I died.
Be careful where you step: the grave is wide.
Not Saying the World Revolves Around You, But...
by Michael R. Burch
The day's eyes were blue
until you appeared
and they wept at your beauty.
Imperfect Perfection
by Michael R. Burch
You're too perfect for words―
a problem for a poet.
Stormfront
by Michael R. Burch
Our distance is frightening:
a distance like the abyss between heaven and earth
interrupted by bizarre and terrible lightning.
Splintering
An unbending tree
breaks easily.
―Lao Tzu, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Autumn Conundrum
by Michael R. Burch
It's not that every leaf must finally fall,
it's just that we can never catch them all.
Laughter's Cry
by Michael R. Burch
Because life is a mystery, we laugh
and do not know the half.
Because death is a mystery, we cry
when one is gone, our numbering thrown awry.
Childless
by Michael R. Burch
How can she bear her grief?
Mightier than Atlas, she shoulders the weight
of one fallen star.
Keywords/Tags: haiku, epigram, epigrams, epitaph, coronavirus, America, USA, health, medical, hospital, hospitals, illness, doctors, death, epidemic, pandemic, plague, mother, child, family, social distancing, life, death, numbers, numbering
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dim bulb overhead, my silent companion: still imitating the noonday sun?
I didn't see a comment, but I hope you liked the poem!