On distant shores

Sleep comes like a tide.
Evenings at home, we drift off
heads back, mouths open.

Meaning lessons: 3 views of two words overheard

“Meaning glistens.” Or
“meaning listens.” Or perhaps
it’s “meaning lessens.”

Free at last

Today was her last
day on a job I said ‘don’t
quit’ two years ago.

Time to start supper

Some people like to
cook. Then there’s me who dreads that
thing called dinner hour.

Why I started again

“Have you been writing
your haiku journal?” he asked.
You read. You know ‘no.’

Undone

Intention shines high
above like a star I see
and dream of reaching.

Can’t sleep – 2 am

Wind chimes jangle in
the breeze. Nature’s alarm clock
saying, “Go to sleep.”

Chenay Bay – Fourth day, Christmas Day

Green Cay Marina
walk. J gets stung, M watches
A Christmas Story.

Big death, little death

Sleep gently takes you,
like the lethal injection
you cannot resist.

Tomorrow’s flight

I’ll Dramamine my
self into torpidity,
sleep through drink service.