February 2019

my haiku fails
as it assimilates
a metaphor

an aftermath of numbers past their prime

a new moon
matching my mind's meander
along streams
of consciousness

it is just like that
the ease with which
your eyes turn on
a falling leaf

when voices cease,
then and only then,
all eyes upon
his closing eyes

a new moon
hidden further yet
in the feathered folds
of brooding clouds

becoming night
the flesh
of our shadows

why not equal,
my shadow, my future?
autumn dusk

darkening night
the via negativa
birthing stars

darkness lurks
a pinch of flame away
by candle light

in silence
the softness of her
moonlit voice