Tag: writeyourselfalive

Haiku 1779

Peak of the morning
sunlight turns the leaves golden
song of distant trains.

The world is moving
like flocks of birds on cold days —
I try to stand still.

Rainbow sherbet sky
trees stretching with blooming buds
and the birds whistle.

Bluebonnets near lawns
crowd cackle on powerlines
highway in distance.

I’m made of mistakes —
they live inside me like ghosts
and they haunt at night.

The eyes of strangers
either hold flowers or knives
and I’m scared to look.

Air getting colder
the little paws of winter
on a midnight stroll.

Wet hair and
restless we watch the moon and
count the stars.

They say the ghosts leave
once you start getting older —
I miss my haunting.

My younger selves, ghosts
one smiled at me yesterday
and bought me flowers.