This is another haiku written with today’s politics in mind. Love will win; we’ll be sure of it. The fat spider weaves a web of falsehoods. The silk is rotten. He falls.
Now what’s to be done That the blood has spilled, her smile Turned to ash and dust
Note: Today’s haiku was written after Donald Trump refused to condemn Nazism and white supremacy. #Resist The words unspoken By a “leader” of “freedom” Shows his cowardice
How strange, she thought–did she hear the deadbolt lock, or was it just her imagination?
A wet kiss rolls down The top of my umbrella And on my rain boot
the freckled leaf clung to the branch–until at last it fluttered to the ground and was crunched by the foot of a small child.
Enveloped in pain, Agony washed over her. The monster found her.
He had not been imaginary, was not unreal–he had spoken; his voice like thunder.
Worn, it fell apart Before it could be repaired It was alive once
Her skin was clammy He knew this was the ending A breeze stirred her hair