A Sunday morning haiku

Woken up by the
bark of a dog named Leila
passing by below.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2017)

Note
Of course I wouldn’t have known the dog’s name if her master hadn’t said it as he was trying to calm her down. Rome, January 29, 2017, 9:22 a.m.

A fatal tendency

I have a symbolic tendency to become unhinged.

Mind you, it’s only symbolic.

Mostly.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2016)

Woven around symbolic, tendency and unhinged from Three Word Wednesday (3WW).

The early morning dog haiku

Barking. The shrill kind,
a smallish yelp. Ecstatic
to have done a job.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2016)

Note
I hope this renders the facts as experienced from my early morning office: the yelp of a dog being walked somewhere in the vicinity. Saw neither the dog nor its walker. The job is my interpretation. Alas, many of these jobs can be encountered in the vicinity.

The I could haiku

I could do many
things right now. But they are not
things I have to do.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2014)

Notes
Inspired by a poem of the sort that lists things the author could do, like polish his shoes, add more sugar to his coffee, muze about friends, family and pets, muze about the mellow April weather, prune the bushes, etc. In the end he decides to do nothing but listen to the sprinklers come on and observe their “immaculate band of light over the lawns.” The immaculate has become stuck in my mind like the proverbial sore thumb. Seems to be about as debatable as the immaculate conception.
As to the things I could do, there are many, as the haiku says. But bread-winning work calls and needs to be taken care of. Sadly.
Oh, and by the way: I would call this haiku a deadpan poem. As opposed to the immaculate band of light kind.