Shrub roses open,
each echoing fragrances from
summers long buried
Month: May 2013
Haiku 5-26
Familiar streets look
changed, as if seen in a dream.
Was my life here real?
Haiku 5-25
Pressing my hands, stretched
out, to buttress sky as it
bleeds past my fingers
God is a better designer than I am a photographer
Spring by the Morning Bus Stop
My ecollection of poetry, The Scent of Water on Mirrors, is available at https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/290344
Haiku 5-21
Child after child dead.
Tears then more tears but even
those are left empty.
