Your Daily Haiku
The city is cold,
But below ground I travel
Like a human mole.
Like a mole, you say?
Moles always dig their tunnels.
Or at least I think…
Call me out on facts?
I’ve heard that moles can scavenge
Tunnels from others.
I suppose that’s true…
But where’s the satisfaction
Won through ownership?
Earth has no owner
And a hole, even less so.
That’s satisfying.
Ah, but what’s a hole
Without a mole to dig it?
Nothing, that is what.
So what is nothing?
Is it the lack of something,
Or simply no moles?
Something from nothing…
Can it be done, as it’s said?
Or are moles needed?
Then what’s a mole?
Say, Avagadro’s Number,
Or just a rodent?
All of that depends
On how much it means to you
And everyone else
I often ponder
How the meanings of meaning
Relate to a mole.
Really? I do not,
For I have too much to do
To dwell on such things.
You should make the time.
A mole hole or a navel,
Contemplation’s key.