8 Haikus

Category: Issue 12

8 Haikus

Hands folded in my lap
like dying birds
I wave and they fly again

Feet tap like nervous hens
pecking for crumbs
I have nothing to feed them

My heart pounds like the neighbor
on the wall
I cannot wish it away

I try to write about beauty
Black marks on paper
That is the truth

The Republican’s convention—
misguided visions of the future

The summer’s end
some early leaves are falling
Trying to beat the rush

The delegates cheer in funny hats
Their loud garments can raise the dead

Indian Summer
I can still swim but i swim
with yellow leaves

Posted by tobiash on 09/04 at 10:46 AM | Permalink
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