after The Bonnie Broukit Bairn, Hugh MacDiarmid, Bonnie, Broukit Venus Above it all, the silence of space—Venus in a green silk goun—untouched by ills of breathy droplets, given through whispers in social distance, well known to the stars, but never for them a thochtie sparin’ by human-kind, remaining blind. Beyond the gloaming, when twilight’s a’blinking, bonnie broukit Venus opens her eyes a’ fore the mune and greets for the mess below. Amanda~Louise Gilmour 2020
I waited near the hill for you to never come— watching raindrops, kindled by sunlight, become a collision of stars on tarmac— but it was cold, and my blood burned blue, not red, never red, not since you. Amanda Gilmour 2020
Snowflakes in sunbeams settle upon pink petals— a summer surprise. Amanda Gilmour 2020
Memories A breeze whispers to the peony roses, expelling scents of Mum. A. G. 2020 Documenting sertraline/zoloft withdrawal through Haiku. Withdrawal day 3. Current dose 100mg. Symptoms: smelling things that aren't there, nausea, headache, dry mouth, depersonalisation, vivid dreams.
Withdrawal Half a pill less thaws my heart's frosty fringe but the freeze remains. A. G. 2020
Wind strewn rose petals pale from red to pink when winter bites summer. Amanda~Louise Gilmour © 2020
Fluttering past sibilant trees—butterflies bleached in solstice sun. © Amanda~Louise Gilmour 2020
Sparkling star-like on roses, dewdrops ignited by sunrise. Amanda~Louise Gilmour © 2020
Gauzy clouds veil sun- down, diluting the scarlett sky, salmon-pink. Amanda~Louise Gilmour © 2020
Breathy droplets (suspended between dust motes) drown my flailing lungs. © Amanda~Louise Gilmour 2020
If only I could sleep and inhabit dreams where I wander freely. Amanda~Louise Gilmour Receive a weekly haiku in your inbox.
At Oldshoremore, the aurora borealis waltzes over stars while I collect broken shells bathed in rose-gold glow. by Amanda~Louise Gilmour