She bangs her son’s runners together,
turns them over.
Sand falls and falls.
***
roadside: all day,
teens in school uniforms
come, heap flowers
***
an old ladder
climbs a small embankment,
steps into the sky
***
in the glade’s cloaked silence
the shade-soaked song of
one bird plays
***
snapdragons clutched
by a rock wall:
mustard on an old man’s face
***
up from a cloud of gravel
peeks the half-moon
of a tire
***
opening the door:
a moth flutters in,
darkness too
***
the pen dips
into a small well of ink:
one by one, stars appear
***
Thought I’d change things up with a few haiku, first published in North Shore Magazine. I’ve missed writing them! More to come….
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