Haiga Archive

reaching out
for the dandelion seed
slowly
floating
away

filling the new grave
scattered handfuls of dark soil
over our shadows

blackbird skeleton
lying in scattered snow
the winter wind

mist on far hills
her eyes in shadow
reflect the distance

‘at the pond’s centre
a circle of ripples
around the full moon

I’ve begun trampling
my own emotions
breaking the backs
of leaves fallen
from my optimism

bald
all these years
but still stealing
the complimentary
shampoo