really bad wednesday haiku, but only one
cruelest month, this snow not deep
enough to cover
the pile of essays
begging for attention, like
small birds with open
mouths, too hardy to
freeze, too weak to survive in
any meaningful
way. dark letters, marks
against a sea of white, stones
in too-shallow snow.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.