[Image courtesy of Gabriella – used by permission]
The poet loved to walk. He often found his inspiration in wandering the countryside and marveling at the many beautiful scenes that he encountered. On some days, he would arrive home to his cottage and compose a bit of verse about what he had seen. More often than not, though, his poem was completely written in his head before he ever crossed his threshold.
If you ever saw him walking, you might wave or even say “hi”, but you would likely get no response as he was so lost in his inner conversation with his muse.
Such was his state of mind on that fateful Tuesday when he walked across the old stone bridge without noticing the small box with a sign painted above: “If you would cross, pay the cost: 50¢”. He was never seen or heard from again.
for lack of toll
a large troll came
and stole his head
Another piece for Haibun Monday at dVerse. Once again, I chose to write a Than Bauk instead of a Haiku to conclude my story.