syllable counting
my fingers tapping the air
composing haiku
on the way to work
tunneled beneath the city
there is no season
so litttle nature
my mornings fill instead with
fields of memory
as the light turns green
he folds her into the cab
with a final kiss
eyes not yet open
the morning wakes on my tongue
from a venti cup
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
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I have enjoyed your Haiku's! You have collected them through your day and that's the best fun of it....our minds klick into the rhythm!
ReplyDeleteYour photos are beautiful!