Haiga Archive

reciting our lies…
I’ll tell you I haven’t
been waiting long
and you’ll tell me
the traffic was murder

after your death
the ocean comforts me
how I long
to inhale that depth of blue
the eternity of waves

a great heron’s
brief caesura…
before flight
we come together
but to be parted

new rust
on old hinges
grave site

deepest winter
the smallest bird
bringing color

power outage–
the moon lost
in the peach tree

old friend
you come
and you go
leaving only traces
of your true colors