Thursday, April 2, 2009

Potluck: Haiku

The red sun ascends.
The ship’s captain says a prayer.
Sailors take warning.

A night cold and brusque,
Frigid rain falls in rhythm
Softly on the roof.

Broken shard of glass
Once used to slice a man’s throat
Dulls in the ocean.

Dandelions weep.
Their cotton flits through the air.
One lands on my tongue.

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