Haiga Archive

fleeting rain
and her flirtatious smile
from under the umbrella
all good and bad days
at my fingertips

wetness of the painter’s brush
The Birth of Venus

hushed quiet whisper
her lipstick and whiskey taste
the witching hour
and now who cares for things like
raindrops against the window

summer afternoon
the sound of bells
fills the park

I look furtively
through windows—waiting for the wind
that will chase away the cold
I also know that you
already long for spring

crow’s feet
she follows the lines on
my hand

the smell of salvia
lavender, mint, melissa
herb garden
its smells remain
when I’m gone