Haiga Archive

first time
kissing a grandmother
for real

my poems, will you
read them to your lover
tonight?
weary, I watch the pale stars
light the way home

scatter of fallen leaves—
the black dog
waiting

who knew
the world wasn’t flat
back then
we ventured out
and never dreamed it would end

well-bred laughter
growing brittle
in the narrowing life

shuffling through dry leaves
this blue October day—
when did it leave me,
exactly,
my strong confident stride

so many years
I let spill to the ground
yet I’m still a drunkard
wiping this summer day
on my sleeve