at least once a year, i feel a tug in my inner-most poetic heart and succumb to the urge to write haiku. poor you... i decided to publish them this year.
do spiders shiver
in my house with frost inside
i believe they do
tea fogs my glasses
with steam, smells of green bamboo
aah, genmaicha
arms stretched to heaven
candlesticks without candles
nothing in their hands
more tomorrow... maybe.
lovepeace
heather
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