These and other haiku may be found at hitrecord. Feel free to contribute work of your own if you’re a member of the website and have appropriate RECords!

Heat is the South’s snow.

The year is bound by blizzards,

ours invisible.

To understand what

fueled God during creation,

paint sky and a wave.

The trees play a prank:

they nod their heads the wind is

cool – it’s a lie.

No storm, but its hues

drape by nape of gaping light,

cape to pale-necked sky.

Filled with hot ink the

horizon folds making clouds


Inside the flowers

are blue and yellow bulbs night

cannot extinguish.

Every tall grass

is tombstone to a seed, but

is also its child.


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