Kimo

Last week, Paul Brookes chose the kimo form, like a haiku but without the kigo—three lines of 10, 7, 6 syllables, no rhyme, and a single static image. The lines can be ordered any way you like.
I found this one difficult to arrange to get a satisfying result. Poems that count syllables in general don’t appeal to me, and these lines of an arbitrary length seem like a constraint without a reason. If the lines were 11, 8 and 5 for example, it wouldn’t make any difference at all. In the end, I simply wrote a line of 23 syllables and broke it into the required segments. I might have been missing the point though.

1.
Train pulls in, we catch our breath,
in the stream of unknowns, her face alone
emerges in focus.

2.
I squint into the light of plum blossom,
pied magpie-swoop, as slate-grey
cloud rolls into dawn sun.

3.
Weeks of fruitless treatment, then that morning,
when his eyes opened clear, bright,
and blackbirds were singing.