YOU LIED

   You promised I'd feel
younger by rubbing you on
   my elbows and knees.
  In a forest one
tree bends creaking with the wind.
   A guitar string stills.

RAGE

   There is a poem
waiting to fly from my mouth
    like a red-winged bird.
SCARS

  There is a poem
no one notices cutting
   its face with a knife.
WHEN I AM GONE

   I will miss watching
pigeons huddling on my roof
   from the cold fall rain.
five haiku
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five haiku
duende2112 Arturo Vasquez II 2000