hailong has it been since we haiku-ed?

as they say somewhere,

‘well, you see, what happened was,’

then mumble mumble.

* * * 

there are days when i 

most humbly and honestly

prefer tap water.

* * * 

‘so, are you ok?’

she asked her hand over his.

‘now, yes’ he replied.




no, no, it’s the way . . .

you see, it’s her . . . gosh, it’s just . . .

she’s perfect for me.

* * *

to my silver spoon,

go polish your own damn self!

leave no tarnish, please.

* * *

the open heeled shoe –

window to a person’s sole!

a pun worth making


what you see of me –

my flaws and imperfections –

are called ‘character.’

* * * 

loosely twisted tie,

rag-doll on a bucking horse!

lets my bread grow stale.

* * * 

setting sun, goodnight!


sorry – she can’t hear.

for scarlet(t)

he paused, choosing his words carefully.

she stood just behind him, fighting the urge to lean forward expectantly on tiptoe.

his hands opened and closed absently at his sides.

she waited.

they stood under an arch near a bench between two hedges parading as walls.

sun painted them in light and welcome shadow of trees and life and other things.

he paused within the pause, an almost impossible stillness before motion that only she could recognize as his.  her heels did not touch the ground.

‘until every star, the ones we see and the ones too far, looses breath and passes slowly on into the dark.’

‘. . . that’s a very long time.’

‘i know.’