Dove sings of morning, dew gathers on grass, scents air – invites wakening. (Written for Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge. Photo from personal collection.) Advertisements
Category: writing
Like a Flame
Imperceptibly they disappear no ghostly trace I am a doorway – open, transparent, absorbing teleporting extinguishing souls, spirited away Eden-bound no return.
Framed Perspectives
Framed perspectives – I see shelter, a friend whose branches shield; you see obstruction, prefer sunshine to shade – our differences, like windows, portioned previews
January’s Frost
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
Stewing Nostalgic
We devour old times – two clouded, broken-eyed, cat and dog – fishing sacred out of vast champagne night. I may linger, eat air, an
Waiting on Heaven
“My children have come home to watch me die,” she tells her doctor, repeats to me, #5, when I arrive. “You leave the world the
