Her empty chair

A haiku

Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash

her empty chair… crocuses paint the snowy canvas

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The poem rests in that tender space where absence meets the first colours of return, letting the crocuses brighten a quiet ache without overwhelming it. Their small strokes of purple and gold feel like gentle offerings laid across the snow’s hush. It’s a moment where grief softens just enough for beauty to enter, painting the stillness with a fragile, hopeful light.

First published on NaHaiWriMo.

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