Nit-picking each and
every syllable my mind
focused on detail.
Haiku journal
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Nit-picking each and
every syllable my mind
focused on detail.
I take better care
of my mother’s possessions
than of her, she’d say
My dead parents’ stuff
occupies my home and mind.
Unsorted, it waits.
Cold snap arrives at
last. Wind, rain shake the changing
leaves into vibrance.
Popcorn caffeine for
the friend whose mom is dying
comfort food TV.
Couplings and breakups
compelled by senior year some
begin others end.
They never read much.
When offered ten bucks for all
their books, they sold out.
Well-loved now. Rescued
he was matted with feces,
eyes begging for home.
Dissolution is
the caterpillar’s abased
path to butterfly.
She hates her friends at
the moment. They cling, their needs
crowding out her self.