Something to Sneeze At

I thank you, haiku.

For this moment in the sun

Fall is imminent.

Brewed in the springtime

Stewarded through the summer

Prost! October Fest

No rhyme. No reason.

The genre needs a season.

Autumn’s good enough.

Little boy crying

By a little girl’s teasing

Winter is coming

Be still. And know this.

There is no raison d'etre.

Just the four seasons

Haiku. Oh fuck you

Your rules speak rigidity

I prefer springtime