contemporary haiku since 1994
September 9, 2024 § Leave a comment
•
you were going
to say something
about the gnat
skirting the hills
a ribbon of mist
leaves the river
haircut
I learn about
sea mammals
September 7, 2024 § Leave a comment
they meet later
the words
you crossed out
folk songs
emanating from
the dish drainer
a ring of storm clouds
turned white
by the sun
more and more
people bit by
alligators
that’s not
a bent nail
that’s a beetle
September 6, 2024 § Leave a comment
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