#3

Fingers reach towards

ceiling like thin beacons, palms

outstretched, fake smile.

This haiku is one of the few surviving ones I wrote when I first started to write poetry. (The others got lost on floppy disks and notebooks my mum threw out.) I used to give them numbers as titles, this was the third I've ever written. I don't really remember why.

I have a tendency to shy away from sharing my work, so I have to keep some stuff I can consistently share. If I don't, I forget about it... I thought I share them on days when I have "nothing in me", like now.

I think I overworked myself on the field (I work in forestry, currently brush cutting). Last week was way too hot, and I only managed to work 4-6 hours, so this week I wanted to take advantage of the cooler (still 28 Celsius degree) weather and worked my ass of 9-10 hours a day. It had it result, I made up for the income that fell out the week before, but I also ended up exhausted - circling between eat, sleep and work.

Frankly, I didn't even have energy to think about writing... Anyway, enough of my boring life story.

Thank you for reading!