I wrote this today/ with a rhythm in my heart/ just for you, ok?

I am kind of feeling inspired today. Once, I owned a coffee mug that inspired me to write a haiku. I wonder if I could be a haiku master. I just had that thought just now. Literally like a second ago. If I write a haiku everyday for 10 years, will I be a master? What does it mean to be a master of anything? I wonder: if I speak only in haikus, would anyone notice? Probably not. But this afternoon I tried to do just this. I said to Dad:

"This winter is hard
because it has snowed, snowed, snowed--
No snow is a dream."

He said, "Yes, son. Snow, it sucks the life out of you."

I ordered a coffee at the coffee shop and said:

"I'll have a coffee
no room for milk pretty please.
For here, not to go. "

And, I waited for the mailman to say:

"Hello, thank you sir.
You brought me some mail I see.
Goody, goody, thanks!"

The mailman seemed suspicious. And I was suspicious of the mailman.

There was nothing exciting in the mail, but before I could think of another haiku, the mailman had moved on to the next house. 

This post wasn't really a post, but it was. It was a post, just for you, ok?

Cracked

Today, I drank coffee from a mug that had a crack in it. At first, I thought I was just being careless with my coffee and that I was spilling coffee on my leg because I was moving the mug too quickly. So, I slowed down. Then, I thought that maybe I had been a sloppy pourer, and that the coffee puddles on the kitchen table appeared from coffee running down the side of the mug. So, I took a paper towel and wiped the outside of the mug. But coffee kept appearing in places where it shouldn't have been appearing. So, I examined the mug and found a hairline crack running down its side. When I saw the crack I exclaimed: "Geez-o-pete!"

I switched mugs and enjoyed the rest of my coffee. Then, I wrote this haiku:

There are many cracks-

like the thin crack in my mug-

in the life we live.