Morning ritual

Light breaks. I heed the
call to darkness, cup rich black
magic in my hands.

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House near Woodstock

A’s dream–a fairy
cottage in the woods–simply
too good to be real.

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All nighter

Weighing sleep against
productivity, I write
into a new day.

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Diner

Booths shelter those hung
over, elbows tacky with
pancake syrup spills.

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Groceries

Short-term guests in my
fridge, pantry, cabinet — but just
until they are served.

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Dishes in the sink

Domestic mountains
rimmed with grime, sponge scaling this
Everest of suds.

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Overlooked

Forgotten summer
umbrella aged by winter’s
wig of heavy snow.

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Over the holidays

Ate bad stuff. Gained weight.
Hate myself. Still, I think, There’s
always tomorrow…

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Poor business decision

I quit my job to
work on my haiku blog. Chance
of millions, slim / none.

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Haiku of the day

Wisdom’s spark. Fortune
cookie poetry message
ignites hope change growth.

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