Tuesday, May 12, 2009

morning, tuesday

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

1 comment:

  1. 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!
    Your photos are beautiful!


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