a haiku in one hour and forty two minutes
the feeling looking out of a taxi, jet lagged, without bearings
a reminder of a memory that isn't yours
wondering if life will get any easier. No. Yes.
the neon jitter of a grimy city, seen through a window, muffled
trying to sleep in a rich hotel room, with crisp soft sheets
a mood savoured, wistfully
middle age, his exhaustion stronger than his libido
recognizing something that you haven't seen
No comments:
Post a Comment