Monday, September 24, 2007

Haiku on Bruegel's Eyes

The fisherman on
the pier wouldn't have dreamed of
gazing at the sun

while the ploughman sat
for lunch and longed for golden one looked up.

Pursuing life, none
saw Icarus fall, none grasped
the true weight of death.

All approached life with
a base mundanity that
belied its meaning.

(Thank you Dennis.)

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