Madness of the March.
Oh, b-ball, how I love thee.
Let the madness March
My love turned forty
frosting, tears, I’m still unsure
Do men live past then?
I dream of boats, snow
and wake to his touch, his heart
morning: he is here.
Day one, post forty
what a day: cake, b-ball, dogs
he’s happy, me too.
for more Washwords’ (and friends) haikus see Haiku You
We have colds, chores, tasks
sniffling snow, chugging juice
and we are giddy
Sometimes the best trip
is no trip at all, rather
you, me, woofs, crossword
We shop ikea,
hit DMV, mall, grocery
and laugh, how we laugh
I feel lucky and
you say, “not lucky, right” We
are right, we are right
(mwah “some guy named me”)
for more Washwords’ (and friends) haikus see Haiku You
Suckitude happens
and today,though, not to me,
mommystory, ow
Lucky am I, now
I see, a government job
never seemed so good
Let alone the friends,
my love, my home, a week off
to dream, plan, love, chill
feel better, hurting friends
see the sun peek under cloud
feel the breeze of shade
the healing happens
sometimes, just when suckitude
rages most wild, breathe
hang in, breathe again,
and let the suckitude suck
right out of your heart
for more Washwords’ (and friends) haikus see Haiku You
