even the full moon isn’t
where I left it
Category: haiku
bronze Gandhi
patina sending tendrils
toward the earth
cloudy Sabbath
all eyes are on the bright
heirloom tomatoes
where that heron used to stand
a painting of a heron
In Weimar
the very trees are smothered
in historic moss
border terrier
this time I only merit
a brief sniff
on the morning
of my departure
leaves bordered in frost
