Haiga Archive

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

autumn drizzle…
I find
an old love letter
with promises
of a sunlit sky

each morning
if the sun shows up
together we climb the hill

for sale sign
on my parents’ cottage…
too many summers