An August Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon


 Looking down from Space,
all the clouds are upside down …
making earth, heaven.
 Scribbled reminders
that I can not decipher
simply make me laugh.
Do you still explore?
Search for meaning in all things?
Are you still a child?
He asked, “How are you?”
She shouted, “Tin roof rusted!”
Oh Baby, indeed.
 My street gets speed bumps
installed tomorrow. Fun times
for Access-a-Rides.
When you’re old, no one
recalls your childhood ‘cept
your older sibling.
As Life slowly ebbed,
he grabbed his wife’s sleeve … “Please Dear,
sing me one more song.”
Winter-time haiku: The boy ate his toast,
lying on the heating vent
in the cold hallway.
haiku-time-machine: Heathens roam the streets!
Danger lurking ev’rywhere!
Protesting hippies!
Yesterday’s roses,
in fullness of bloom … recall
our halcyon days.
50’s moms complained,
their rags smelled of Carbona,
even after washing.
Into the street, the
texting pedestrian steps …
days later, she wakes.
 A moonlit whisper,
two lovers in silhouette,
embrace with passion.
 Waiting in the wings,
and listening for his cue,
He can’t find his props.
In his father’s desk,
lived a letter never sent,
urging forgiveness.
tanka haiku:

The house lights dimmed, the
orchestra began to play,
a brash Broadway score.

Musicals can fill our hearts
with an overwhelming joy!

In her mind were thoughts
that she kept all to herself;
Roses in concrete.
In a quiet rain,
my thoughts ricochet about,
dampening my mood.
His tortured soul found
small measures of contentment
just beyond its reach.
Emerging shadows,
late on Friday afternoon,
make me fear nightfall.
At last, there’s closure.
The next chapter will begin …
in 3, 2, 1 … Go.
 He’s not nearly ‘in’,
nor even fairly close, but
close enough for jazz.
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