reading room
Seventeen Haikus for Iceland
1 Snowfield without path — the wind invents its own script across the silence.
2 Reykjavík breathes light. Smoke, laughter, and winter coats soften every street.
3 Midnight fireworks — the sky blooms in every hue. Even cold applauds.
4 Frozen waterfall pauses mid-sentence of stone, held by breathless air.
5 Black sand under frost — each wave forgets where to go, lost beneath pale skies.
6 Hot srings blur the cold. Steam drifts like a memory not quite forgiven.
7 A shark on my plate. The taste: stubborn-sea-buried — I chew through the past.
8 Geyser's sudden roar — the still world flinches, then sighes, letting go of heat.
9 Cracks in the glacier shine with some ancient blue light. Ice remembers us.
10 A horse in the snow blinks, then turns — as if it knows this moment won't last.
11 Selfoss: one quiet road, each lamp a gentle heartbeat in the drifting dusk.
12 Volcanic black stone dressed in moon-reflecting frost — fire disguised as calm.
13 A tune in the wind — is it Björk or just the land humming to itself?
14 The sun barely wakes, lingers at the edge of things — a ghost of a flame.
15 Snow refills my steps before I've moved on from them. Even time retreats.
16 Silence so complete, I almost hear the mountain shift beneath the snow.
17 I pause in the white — no, path, no sound, only breath. I am what remains.
— Lilith