Citadel for the Broken

I don't think I can write a very long post right now....
Instead I'll leave you with a haiku and maybe three from me it depends on how I feel...

the piercing cold--
in our bedroom stepping
on my dead wife's comb

Buson Yosa

And from yours truely:



Blooming azeleas
Shudder in flurries of snow
Waiting for sunlight




Fleeing winter chill
Hollow red butterflies sail
Down the gravel path



Purple flowers dry
Pressed between slender leaves
Of black and white


I know it was short. No whining. I'll be back soon... I hope.