Photo by Michael Walk on Unsplash
Counting my traumas
Like mala beads, wondering
Where the pattern ends
About the Creator
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More stories from Joelle E N and writers in Poets and other communities.
When the Shelter Closes
Across the street from my house, a man slept under a tree, his dog by his side. My first, naive thought: he must be traveling through. But he kept coming back, often sleeping there during the day. Then it hit me—that person might not have a home.
By Bride of Sounda day ago in Humans
Comments (7)
Do these beads form like a necklace? If yes, looks like the pattern never ends 🥺
When they are joined together in a circle, they never do.
Does one have to be Catholic to understand the beads. Mala beads, will have to look it up. Your story sounds deeply rooted. Maybe knowing the beads will help to explain your haiku better. Be blessed.
I need to get one!
Beadiful :)
❤️ a potential break for freedom lies in every bead! Patience and perseverance 🥰 Are you on discord Joelle?
Great Haiku! Enjoyed!