Filed under haiku

NaPoWriMo: 27 (3 Haiku)

i. Morning lake; white fog hovers above mirrored sky; ducks swim in stillness. ii. Green buds on still, brown tree limbs set against blue sky: The colors of Spring. iii. April rain outburst pink petals cover sidewalks carpet of flowers. Advertisements

NaPoWriMo: 20 (3 Broken Haiku)

i. Frozen white dew covers lawn Closed yellow dandelions: Unbothered. ii. Under empty staircases: Lost notebook and tumble weave forgotten. iii. Sometimes, “I love you” is a two word text message asking “Need Food?”

NaPoWriMo: 15 (3 Haiku)

i. Rain falling on black asphalt; cold, heavy drops hit exposed skin: goosebumps. ii. Underneath bare shrubs: fallen, old leaves; ashen black mulch; growing green weeds. iii. Metal toy cars race across wooden floor. Laughter. The sound of childhood.

NaPoWriMo 2017: #15 (3 Haiku)

i. Coffee is ordered. Cappuccino is brought; drink lost in translation. ii. Mosquito trying to bite; I am attempting haiku. We both fail. iii. Atlantic trade winds Nblow through just shampooed Afro: Air dried natural.

NaPoWriMo 2017: #10 (3 Haiku)

i. Words are heard; arms, legs, hair move in one rhythm. Her body is the poem. ii. Wide eyes, open mouths: suburban stillness, unnerves inner city kids. iii. Beige window shades sway; sounds of approaching sirens blow through the classroom.

NaPoWriMo 2017: #4 (3 Haiku)

i. New cherry blossoms sway. Breezes chill falling rain. The smell of morning. ii. Grey, graphite shadows beneath pink, rubber debris: writing still exists. iii. April afternoon sunshine; small brown boy runs, arms open, hugging life.