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

denouement (a sequence)


salt wind

in an empty shell


wave splatter
the sting of her tears


a gull’s cry

knee deep

in foam


her tipped toes

lingering on the tide- line



her argument


as in the afterlife

crusting on sand bars


contrary to guidelines

a sliver of her flesh



in the gloaming

a curdled refuse


bones: journal of contemporary haiku,  March 2018


March 27, 2020 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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