Haiga Archive

making love
in the long grass
…so many beetles

marker stone
for this brief moment
taller than the mountain

between the stones
a meandering wind
bright red poppies

across the pavement
tumbled by winter wind
an empty snailshell

lying in her arms
as the next door neighbor’s dog
howls at the moon

across the fridge door
summer’s unfinished haiku

with no line to cast
I stand at the swath
and launch my mind
into froth…
another poem caught