wounded sky . . .
dawn pries open
the night
wounded sky . . .
dawn pries open
the night
autumn dusk –
her cat no longer
her kitten
end of autumn . . .
a tui sings counterpoint
to his own dirge
river fog—
a nameless ache
fills the page
See The Haiku Foundation's re-Virals 351 for commentaries on this haiku.