Month: November 2017

Haiku 1027

Has this house

of collections turned

a junkyard?

I wrote letters

on ephemeral moments

but get no response.

Please forgive me-

I’ve tried to disappear a

few too many times.

But what is greater

than the little leftovers

of light we each hold?

There’s sunlight behind

the curtains you, yourself, hung-

open them a look.

I’m sorry, my heart’s

a garden and I’m not good

at horticulture.

Home is a valley

amidst the bitter winter

it welcomes the cold.