Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Three Haiku

A price is paid in lives lost
Gone without a whisper
As nothing left where the felon has roamed

***

A rocky storm in the belly of night
Hails distracted dreamers from lost gardens
White as bone laid wilted on life’s fallen foliage

***

Last strides upon these arid streets
Marked by pecuniary remorse
Bear testaments of my muted soul’s final toil

No comments:

Post a Comment