Spring

[matsunosuperfan]

Spring

Death is everywhere.
The running does no good.
A mother holds a baby to her breast,
in twenty years
he wraps his grown-up hands around her neck
and wrings it like a rag. He likes the way it feels
to feel the life exit her body, how she looks at him
with tenderness
that almost makes him stop.

Men exist to kill. We practice
every morning, kiss the only living thing we love
then put it in the ground. In Kansas,
there's a field of grain that stretches out so endlessly
you'd think the rain kept falling
even when the sun was out. Under every tree, a grave
no one will ever recognize
lifts up another daffodil
to have its head cut off.

[CRNDLSM]

As usual you got some good imagery, but what seems like a lot of fluff, forgive the rewrite but it's just what I imagine tightened up a bit, you probably don't have to cut it down to haiku , I'm just pointing out fluff, thanks for posting

Spring



A mother holds a baby to her breast,
he wraps his grown-up hands around her neck
and wrings it like a rag. He likes
to feel the life exit her body, how she looks
with tenderness -
almost makes him stop.

Every morning, we kiss what we love,
to bury it. In Kansas there's a field of grain 
that stretches out so endlessly this part sings to me
you'd think the rain kept falling with this part
even when the sun is out. 
Under every tree, a grave
lifts up a daffodil
to have its head cut off.

Running, death is everywhere.

[busker]

Spring

Death is everywhere.
The running does no good.
A mother holds a baby to her breast,
in twenty years
he wraps his grown-up hands around her neck
and wrings it like a rag. He likes the way it feels
to feel the life exit her body, how she looks at him
with tenderness
that almost makes him stop.

Men exist to kill. We practice
every morning, kiss the only living thing we love
then put it in the ground. In Kansas,
there's a field of grain that stretches out so endlessly
you'd think the rain kept falling
even when the sun was out. Under every tree, a grave
no one will ever recognize
lifts up another daffodil
to have its head cut off.

These are some wonderful lines
But not held up by the rest of the poem.
The first bit about the mother being murdered has no context. Nature as mother? Maybe, but too overdone. Ain’t no blizzard looking at us tenderly while we die waiting for hot cocoa
It’s ok to have a tapestry but jt would be better served without some of the melodramatic lines.

[Deor Ana Log]

Spring

Death is everywhere. an opening that requires justification to pull off - I think you do it a 7/10
The running does no good. a line break here would enhance the reading experience
A mother holds a baby to her breast,
in twenty years
he wraps his grown-up hands around her neck I wonder what leads to this; is it meaphorical?
and wrings it like a rag. He likes the way it feels
to feel the life exit her body, how she looks at him this has inspired a poem I will write
with tenderness
that almost makes him stop.

Men exist to kill. We practice While I don't agree, I respect your assertation
every morning, kiss the only living thing we love
then put it in the ground. In Kansas,
there's a field of grain that stretches out so endlessly
you'd think the rain kept falling 
even when the sun was out. Under every tree, a grave is this the mothers grave?
no one will ever recognize polarized statement, and too much so
lifts up another daffodil
to have its head cut off. you could say strangled to connect it back to the other stanza

This piece inspired me, while I don't know if it was on purpose, it did nonetheless. Briefly, it is overall solid but needs its story fleshed out or cut down. Thanks for sharing!