windrag : poetry : journal

:: f : w : i : w ::

legacy

clear spring night: the train–
the sound that draws us to ask:
where are we going?

rain

spring: my faultless friends
have spiders in the corners
of their model home.

pause

on the way to church,
spring is a roadkill deer, and
all of these questions

translation

some haiku purists
think spring is in the eyes, while
some prefer the tongue

stuck

the breeze is not quite
strong enough to tip the leaf
into the swift creek.