"We shall never understand one another until we reduce the language to seven words. ..."

Leaf

Freely from the tree
graceful on a floating gentle breeze
Death is upon me

Squishy between toes
brown water sandy beaches
natures gift to us

Tick tock of the clock
winding clogs turning non stop
time is our master

five syllable line
Haiku does not have to rhythm
ink to paper done

burning down paper
natures gift a plenty grown
now a love of weed

Cannabis takes time
leafy green varieties high
don't rush just enjoy

Glass stained black by smoke
pugnant herb burns sweet smell lures
Nirvana now bound

High he was thinking
smoked to much this here weekend
What a joke weakling