No haiku wisdom

The moment I dreamed
what stood before me easing
in the momentary light

some haiku wisdom
cutting away the branches,
a falling skyscape.

What hoax this,
what cheap transcendence
as if these became more than branches

thorn-encrusted and wound back,
relieved of their arthritic peel,
that hunch inscribing

an untrammeled march
upon us insatiably,
until it falls away.