Fog and night entwined;/
weavers obscuring the light./
Patchworked day unfolds.
Fog and night entwined;/
weavers obscuring the light./
Patchworked day unfolds.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
Night kisses my lips. /
Day whispers in my tired ear. /
Must I leave you now?
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
Morning parts with rain: /
wet into dry, past from now, /
life touched and not touched.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
Her eyes saw wonder, /
a world defiant of his. /
His beheld sadness.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
He reached the road’s end. /
He stepped into the unknown. /
The first fright was love.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
Lightning, thunder, rain — /
wind scatters all that remains: /
memory, leaves, love
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
Sliced radish sandwich. /
Butter and pumpernickel /
embrace Spring’s first crop.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
Lightning … thunder … rain /
Wind scatters all that remains /
Memory … leaves … love
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
When the world’s empty /
and holds no love, you will have /
evolved to your Hell.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
First yard work of Spring; /
muscles fight the bloom of work: /
Dandelion aches.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author