The dusted road bathes today, for the sky bleeds its white blood. Every drop is a wondrous suicide, a deliberate fall for love of joy. Who knew that the washed away soil would take everyone back to their dreams. We used to chase the rainbows till we forget each other’s faces. We floated and tasted these colours.Sometimes we carried them in our pockets for the night. Rain kept the fallen dead leaves alive. They would float to their shores to be picked by lovers, dried and kept in books. We were so young then.We could have been gods of our lives then, but everyone now takes these autumnal rains for granted.
dead red leaves float to
carry the smell of wet earth,
please take me along.
– A Haibun is a Traditional Japanese Poetry that includes a Prose with a Haiku. The First Paragraph is a prose and the second one is a haiku.