Haiga Archive

the distance between
a gate, or through it all
the space you learn to live through love and war
rapture
a detail often missed

The last time here, families sharing picnic blankets and teens on beach towels crowded the lake front. I spent most of my time pretending to read, but really sneaking glances at a particular bikinied girl. I lay on my stomach to hide my lust.

This evening, the grasses are yellow, bent and worn from a summer’s use; the birch trees are barren of leaves; a windfall is spread beneath the apple tree.

resting
on the reed tip
an iridescent dragonfly

A bull frog’s “wronk, wronk, wronk” breaks my reverie. I walk to the nearby lodge and sit alone. Several couples dine in silence, staring past one another.

mountain sunset
painted turtles slumber
on a weathered log

Looking out the window, I see her again, taste that first kiss, touch her apple-hard breast.

What was her name…

moon gazing
the heron
and i

Christmas morning
the same doll
in a new dress.

empty platform
a lone poppy
still nods

his smile
still lingers
the gate long closed

late summer—
outgrowing
your shyness