27 January 2026

A chair by a window

 

Writing haiku with
my cup of coffee grounds me.
I look out a window.
 
No words come to mind,
but, fingers on the keys, words
flow onto the screen.
 
Today’s haiku: 1/27/2026

“A clear and sunny
day rewards us after days
of shadow and pain.”

 
The pain and shadow
are still here as ICE still harms
our lives and takes lives—
 
but sun heals, and so
far, merciful quiet frames
news not yet turned on.
 
In this quiet time
I notice I’m sitting as
my grandmother sat:
 
taking the chair shape
writing while hunched over keys
responding to news.
 
She looked up and out
her window from her white house
on a wooded hill.
 
As long as she wrote
she had hope. Daily she rued
poison in our air.
 
Daily she told me
to enjoy life, to smile,
to be kind, to care.
 
Daily she wrote page
after page, letters for miles,
a little red hen
 
working for us all.
each letter was a prayer
for a better life.


 

For Sherry's prompt "Help for Hurting Hearts" at What's Going On? 

 

My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright
© 2026 Susan L. Chast 


11 comments:

  1. Sherry Blue Sky1/27/2026 10:46 AM

    Susan, I cant tell you how much I love this poem. Wow! One of your finest. I can see you, and I can see your grandmother, too, bent over your desks, looking out at the world, caring, writing, writing, writing. I love that you call her "little red hen, working for us all." This poem is perfect. I love it.

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  2. Mary1/28/2026 8:58 AM

    "As long as she wrote
    she had hope. Daily she rued
    poison in our air."
    It is interersting to learn that your grandmother was a writer/recorder of her time, as you are of yours with your haiku. I do think writing CAN do good things for, if nothing else, the person who writes. I love "each letter was a prayer for a better life." So very true. Sometimes I think we write in hope....and that indeed is 'help for hurting hearts.'

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  3. rallentanda1/28/2026 10:20 AM

    That little red hen is alive and well inside of you. Beautiful poem.

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  4. Marja1/28/2026 4:40 PM

    Beautiful words reflecting the strength of you grandmother A special woman she was. I love: a a little red hen
    working for us all.
    each letter was a prayer
    for a better life.

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  5. Jae Rose1/28/2026 4:55 PM

    Such tender imagery and memory - a very soothing rhythm too counter-act the hurts of the world - Jae

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  6. Jim1/29/2026 5:48 PM

    True to our modern ways, starting with Grandma

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  7. J Cosmo Newbery1/30/2026 6:42 PM

    Yes, there is hope. We must hold onto that.

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  8. Truedessa1/31/2026 7:53 PM

    Your grandmother was wise and filled with hope for better days. A beautiful portrayal of her strength in words and practice.

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  9. Anonymous2/01/2026 11:40 AM

    One of your best. thanks

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  10. purplepeninportland.com2/03/2026 8:37 PM

    What a tender, lovely poem, Susan. I can see your grandmother in her white house, ruing the poisons.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Rajani2/03/2026 10:47 PM

    Little red hen, working for us all"... the image you create of a lovely lady writing letters about the world outside, trying to fix it...so beautiful and inspiring. Thanks for this, Susan.

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