jornales

for a moment of joy or moments no one pays for, i give myself a ‘jornal’. this makes me rich. try it.

chill wind

chill wind

the leaves rattle nameless now–

who will bury them?

Where jornales come scarce, I pick a sound–enough for the eternity of a day.

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January 20, 2010 - Posted by | haiku, poetry | , ,

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