Haiku

th'air's never sweeter
than beyond the prison wall
daffodils at dance
 
Some hate wives that love.
All know this. But? Ego strikes.
Spite is the result.
 
Leaves on the ground cry,
"Soon! Soon, we will disappear!
Snowblower tune-up.
 
ishing is an art
where brush strokes have neither start
nor much of an end
 
Writers probe. They dig.
To end, happily? The goal.
Poets? More clever.
 
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