Unassuming Haiku Musings
Twas simply stunning
Twas simply stunning, electrifying—as one expects from a fence.
Department
Seventeen syllables, give or take a grievance. Small observations pressed flat and dried — the red pen mid-bleed, the morning mid-thought, the indignity mid-stir. The form is ancient and the complaints are modern, which seems a fair trade. House rule: say the little thing exactly, count the syllables loosely, and end before the feeling overstays.
Twas simply stunning, electrifying—as one expects from a fence.
Soft, speak of lightning. I'd defer to Prospero above a groundling.
A Stratford sonnet hath a will like no other save for another.
What was this like, like? unlike any other like; no two are alike.