Site icon A Hundred Falling Veils

four haiku and a tanka

inside that sigh
migrate a thousand thousand
butterflies

*

what’s quiet
is still quiet behind
the barking dog

*

I fall asleep
aware of part of me watching
the one who sleeps

*

these arms
not reaching
but waving

*

poor woman
stopping long enough to smell
the juniper berries
only because
she has to pee

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