.
.
.
black light
poems appear
in the rocks
.
white butterflies unbreathable atmosphere
.
horsetail sky
another story about you
in the newspaper
.
.
___________________________________________________________________________________
(NaHaiWriMo prompt: Black and white)
.
Moving on: NaHaiWriMo prompt for April 26th:
Playgrounds and playground equipment
See this post for an explanation of what this is.
See the NaHaiWriMo website.
See the NaHaiWriMo Facebook page, and contribute haiku there if you want. (It doesn’t have to have anything to do with this prompt. It’s just a suggestion.)
Red Dragonfly 
black screams
the crows are up early
on Saturday
white butterflies
the trail into spring
blossoms
black and white
the chessboard a flock
of magpies
oh. i forgot to say – i really like your “horsetail sky” line. zing. and other things. and the black light poems. yeah. i think there might be a slew of those among the rocks… cool.
bwahahahaha. unbreathable atmosphere. that one took a couple of moments to sink in. bwahahahaha. yeah. i dont want those white butterflies up my nose. bwahahahahhaa.
You’re so literal, Daddario. 🙂
bwahahahaaha. yeah. literal may be about as close as i get to being literate these days.
Thanks…I think there is a better poem about black light waiting to be written, but I haven’t figured out what it is yet.
i think there may be quite a few of them in that nest.
my eyes close
the colors rearrange
in the black light
I like white butterflies a lot.
I love the white butterflies a lot, too, Melissa!
I’m sorry I haven’t been leaving comments here that you know would be nothing but ‘awesome’! The NaHaiWriMo bug as I’ve told Wrick has bitten me and all I seem to do is spin words around my head. I have to ease off a bit soon though because I seem to have strayed into a labyrinth, I’m beginning to panic I may face a stone wall soon. It’s a roller coaster ride for me along with the endless rumbling in my mind of my other poems. Still, I’m loving it all though.
So this is this is exchange between you and Wrick that he has mentioned in his comment on jornales. I love how we braid each other and so this
my charcoal sketch
of him–
more white than black
campfire fumes–
he draws her eyes
a bolder black
black crows–
the sky opens up
for the moon
under the sun
a white butterfly alights
on her gray hair
Oh, thank you both but especially for this space and this moment together, Melissa!
Wow. These are all great, great, great. That first one especially. Oh, and the second one and the third one. Fourth one’s not bad either.
Funny, I just finished writing a whole series of one-liners about white butterflies. Actually I don’t think I’m finished, I might still have fifty or sixty in me. They’re starting to feel like my moon obsession.