8 Haikus
8 Haikus
Hands folded in my lap
like dying birds
I wave and they fly again
Feet tap like nervous hens
pecking for crumbs
I have nothing to feed them
My heart pounds like the neighbor
on the wall
I cannot wish it away
I try to write about beauty
Black marks on paper
That is the truth
The Republican’s convention—
misguided visions of the future
The summer’s end
some early leaves are falling
Trying to beat the rush
The delegates cheer in funny hats
Their loud garments can raise the dead
Indian Summer
I can still swim but i swim
with yellow leaves
Copyright © Harris Tobias | Year Posted 2009
|