Haiku (Series #1)

waiting for a speech
knowing I will speak somewhere
where they have to clap


Shoulder to Shoulder: a series of haiku

the storm may be fierce
the damage inflicted harsh
but I am here too

the boughs may be strong
the wind howling through our souls
but quiet comes next

the sun peeks outside
the beams play soft in your beard
wind ruffles your hair

bond long weathered now
like wood tendrils and roots
stronger together.

Cleanse: a series of haiku

Your voice, like a sip
of tepid honey water
soothes my scorching throat.

My scorched and scarred throat,
tucked with taut screams and fire
pours into your pool.

Your pool, heavy with
my humid, evaporates
And like rain, we cleanse.