a few haiku

Month: May, 2012

the sound of gulls bisects the awkward love triangle

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after restless sleep the creaking needs of birds nearby

woken by my moan as wide as the moon

just enough of a push the crane soars over the treetops

hands across his chest he worries about wealth old squirrel

summer half over the fountain sparkles with pennies

softly from deep inside the fog the voice that wants me dead

the moving van moves a sweetness remembering summer

alone a bird I’ve never seen looks at me the same way

thin white skin of rain the puzzle back in the drawer