Everyday Poetry

I sat watching the local rooks chasing the buzzard away from their roosting trees the other day,  and was struck by how their strength comes from banding together to beat off a bigger foe. Much like Europe did to the US over Greenland.  Rooks chase the bully boy from their sky Forcing him slowly away from their trees, Where their nests rest safely year to year. The buzzard encroached, nipping at the edges, Testing to see how much they would sacrifice Before they say: Enough! Each rook is small, individually defenceless Against his talons, his beak, his confidence, But together they beat him back,  One bravely jabbing, One flying close to force him to turn, Others raising their voices to jeer at his defeat, At his turning away in the face of unity, Back to his lush valley home,  More than enough for his needs. © Copyright 2026. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

I've been mulling this over for a couple of months,  trying to capture the weird feelings I experienced visiting the Taj Mahal for the second time.  The haiku I originally wrote isn't sufficient - they rarely are for wordy me - so I've turned it into a haibun, which is a blend of prose poem and haiku.   Setting: same.  Framing: same.  Emotion: flat.  Travel-tired after the Red Fort's massive morning splendour, the marble workshop's familiar afternoon soft-sell, the white mausoleum floating above its gardens' perfect symmetry illicits no awe, no momentary stop of the heart, no catch of breath. Instead, a green-painted bench affords a glimpse into many lives, conjured by conversations passing by. Second time around White marble no longer wows; Magic found elsewhere. © Copyright 2026. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved