growing old, photography, seasons

True-Blue Mailbox Blues

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Fresh from the store, I was medium blue
with a touch of gray and a ton of confidence
that the mail would be safe from the weather.
 
I shrugged off decades of sun, rain, and wind.
I never flinched when the snow thrower hurled
slush laden with road salt and grit.
 
My pitted outside is the palest of blues, but
my door still swings wide and shuts tight.
My inside is still me, still medium blue
with a touch of gray and a ton of confidence
that the mail is still safe from the weather.

Blues ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #368

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haiga, haiku, photography, seasons

Elegy for a Green Insect

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First few cold days ask
“Who can overwinter?”
Katydids cannot.

When I wrote the original version of my haiku, I was aware that some insects can overwinter as adults, even where winters are harsher than in the Mexican mountains favored by monarch butterflies.  Bark beetles are a dreaded example.  Seeing a lethargic insect shaped like familiar crickets (but bigger and more colorful), I wrote a haiku voicing the unlikely hope that the insect (later nicknamed “Kermit” after the famous green frog) might be able to overwinter:

Last few mild days ask
“Ready to overwinter?”
Cricket moves slowly.

A helpful comment by Sue Ranscht on my post with that haiku prompted me to dig a little deeper.  Kermit was a young male katydid.  Winters where I live are mild enough for his mother’s eggs but still too harsh for him.  Kermit ran out of time before maturing.  That makes the middle line of my original haiku more like a taunt than a sincere question, so I revised the haiku to be an elegy for Kermit the katydid.

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