• Gary Hunter

haiku - March 1, 2021

gold moon licks my eyes

she should raise up her webbed net

dreams have powdered wings

0 views

Recent Posts

See All

snorers are braggarts they say to the sleepless I can even hum a tune while I do it

the squeal of rubber rips the silence as a fast driver carves up the invisible night with an extended tortured note and skid marks when it stops I close my eyes wait for crickets to serenade the darkn

walking out my front door I’m assaulted by the awful stink of thousands of mango blossoms but oh what a miracle when they morph into handfuls then armfuls of ambrosia as if a hangover could turn into