July 5, 2016: A Haiku

Leave the memory
To its happy resting place
Its well-deserved joy

July 4, 2016: A Haiku

The dark laboured not
The grand-finale in sight
And already dusk

West -too much, I feel.
Wherefore now the Eastern lands;
mystic ancient seas.

For I have spoken
Now remains a piece of you
Reserved for my lips

Here is where I live
The end of your fingertips
Your utterances

Learning to let go
Sun glinting off your shoulders
Fly and live again

The ache of the ache
Or the alone of alone
May we choose neither

This is of ancient
A thousand or more
To breathe invisible breaths
One quarter million at least
For whom love runs deep
Seven miles for now

And the two sisters
Lived happily evermore
It was decided

The kind of whispers
a man utters when his breath
is fully stolen.