Haikus

Under the grey tree

I am the one upside down

searching depths, not skies

Chop trees to buildings.

Escape the buildings. Drive to

ogle stunted trees.

I’m full and empty

Full on roses and pink cakes

Empty of purpose

I asked my husband

If we transformed to eagles

would you be happy?

The night market sleeps,

solar charging magic to

feed us under stars

I’m saying nothing

While also saying something

They are the same words

I am a writer.

I am a writer. I write.

There, see? I said it.

My mom’s an arrow.

We stand on opposite shores.

I’m a falling leaf.

Winter is for rest

The sun tells us what to do

And what not to do