Haiga Archive

after so many
ups and downs
we’ve come
to a complete
standstill

winds in tatters
caught among ruins
just for a moment
just me
at Arthur’s grave

looking back
how fragile
that old life seems
clinging
to fleeting moments

after the storm
water drains
‘round a single shoe

tending tea roses
my thumb finds a thorn
bright crimson blooms

kitchen table
running a thumbnail
around its knots

pickling onions
the sharp tang of vinegar
she leaves the room