Monday, January 25, 2016

On the subject of Crow

I woke up morose
Then I wrote a new haiku,
Not really that good



Hard to lament loss
When you are not even sure
You deserved to win

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

My whiskey-voiced Angel
No longer speaks to me,
She only flits in and out
Of my mind's eye
Leaving footprints and tears
In her wake.

Monday, January 4, 2016

What a strange kind of love this is
That lingers after hope has died,
Not letting go or giving up
In spite of failure and of pride,