If I appear to function, it is testament to adaptability – I am socially awkward, with a side of dreamer – wandering, spinning, need someone
Dove sings of morning, dew gathers on grass, scents air – invites wakening. (Written for Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge. Photo from personal collection.)
Imperceptibly they disappear no ghostly trace I am a doorway – open, transparent, absorbing teleporting extinguishing souls, spirited away Eden-bound no return.
Framed perspectives – I see shelter, a friend whose branches shield; you see obstruction, prefer sunshine to shade – our differences, like windows, portioned previews
As Mother counts her last days, and I open my heart to forgiveness, a daughter calls, reaming me out for wrong-doings – January is not
Daddy yelled and Mommy cried and new dresses appeared. A pattern my young heart vowed to break. Chose a man, reticent in nature, pursued a