Spun as adventure,
it’s a long hard drive with a
heartbroken daughter.
Lying on Facebook
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Spun as adventure,
it’s a long hard drive with a
heartbroken daughter.
Looking glass spray paint
fail. Dollar Tree junk still lacks
Pottery Barn charm.
Dandelion seed
responsibilities float
away on each breath
Summer is golden
butterscotch, January
skim milk, thin weak pale.
A’s dream–a fairy
cottage in the woods–simply
too good to be real.
I quit my job to
work on my haiku blog. Chance
of millions, slim / none.
Vague tomorrow is
malleable until tempered
by the here and now.
Why bother vowing
change when you’re satisfied with
your lazy-ass self?
Once her nest, now a
museum to her old self.
Home is elsewhere.