Wind moves the curtain Dust turns slowly in the sun A page flips itself
By Melissa 23 days ago in Poets
Train doors slide open Cold air moves along the floor Someone drops a coin
Steam lifts from the cup A spoon taps once on the rim Rain hits the window
old well, no bucket a frog jumps in anyway the sound of water Did you know that Matsuo Bashō (and other masters) didn't have to follow the form of a Haiku at all, it's a Haiku *because* they wrote it.
By Tim Carmichael23 days ago in Poets
opening the flesh suppressed by a tourniquet his eyes rolling back
By Bride of Sound23 days ago in Poets
tidal waves recede obsidian sands reclaim the jagged shoreline
Surrounded by oth- ers. A bee rests for a mo- ment on my thumb. Come.
By Sarah O'Grady23 days ago in Poets
all the birds fall dead a massacre in the wind carcasses fester
We can easily Count seeds in any apple Not apples in seeds
By Margaret Minnicks23 days ago in Poets
Light through morning mist - Cold and damp upon my skin. The taste of coffee.
By Eda Marie23 days ago in Poets
Screen across the room, The dark glass shows no image, Stillness in the frame.
By Jide Okonjo23 days ago in Poets
Such aural delight; The avian carolers celebrating Spring.
By the Phuzz23 days ago in Poets
