old friends . . .

old friends–
we used to talk about sex
life, death and the gradations
of a peony’s petals

All The Shells: Tanka Society of America
Members’ Anthology 2014

About Margaret Dornaus

I’m a writer and a teacher, as well as a haiku-doodler. I live in a beautiful woodland setting, surrounded by native oak forests, that inspires me to record haiku snapshots of luna moths and our resident roadrunner, and even an occasional black bear as it hightails it across the top of my road, my mongrel dog barking at its heels as I watch with wonder. My work as a travel writer has appeared in publications from The Dallas Morning News to the Robb Report. You can find examples of my travel writing–as well as excerpts from a travel memoir I’m working on–at my other WordPress site, Travelin’ On. What more than that do you need to know? Only that I started this blog with an eye toward collaboration. Got a haiku? Send it my way. . . . I’m all about new visions & voices. Best, Margaret
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4 Responses to old friends . . .

  1. Adelaide says:

    You have that right! I find that my own conversation bores me. Think of how it must bore others.


  2. Adelaide says:

    What I meant was that I find that I too often talk of dying and aging and all the aches that come with aging. Sometimes I catch myself and realize I’m bored with my own talk. And, if I’m bored, the listener must be even more bored. I remember the giggling conversations with friends when younger when we talked about sex and marriage and the life not yet lived but hoped for.

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