haiku and other animals

Month: January, 2014

folds of a dress
in an old painting
the southern hills


rain runs through the hills a harpsichord

reluctant to hyphenate the clouds of August

me and Shakespeare walnut shells

morning escapes
through newly empty air

thinking of throwing it away
I crack and fry up the full moon

the pure white
of David’s eyes

one day you and I and all these flowers

pin drop night where my wings used to be

morning songs of foreign birds why I can’t die