Haiga Archive

melting away
comfort
craving
your voice
calling
for spring

they found it on the edge of the highway
30 miles from anywhere, crumbling slabs
bandaged with loose ribbons of vine
swaddled in moss, the occasional sentry
frowning in shades of decrepit stone

sun glint
in a darkening sky
…the raven’s watch

brittle wind
a flame rises from the embers

fragile bridge
ambiguous…
the weight
of words

nesting bluebirds
the dugout
bone dry

grumbling
between the foxtails
harvest moon