Settling in the bath
Warm waters rising about
The telephone rings
I found this old haiku while sifting through some old papers. It was probably written around 2000, while I lived in my previous home. I remember composing it in my old rocking chair (not in the bath, which would have been cooler), but don't recall writing it down.
By the way, I never get out of the bath to answer the phone. All too often it rings off and I'm left dripping over my living room rug. It's just not worth it.