Rising from the graves springtime green —forgotten cemetery stirs.
Almost Haiku: Ninety
Bare sky where the great fir once stood— quiet after the storm.
Almost Haiku: Eighty-Nine
In the twilight hour walking with my shadow old friends.
Rising from the graves springtime green —forgotten cemetery stirs.
Bare sky where the great fir once stood— quiet after the storm.
In the twilight hour walking with my shadow old friends.