on the window
There are two voices fighting for the control of my mind. One says, “Just keep writing,” and I ask, “writing for whom?” The other whispers in the dark, “for the dead whom you did love.”
first light ...
my copy of The Middle Way
I start to spin the poems of darkness out of falling snow.
Contemporary Haibun Online, 8:1, April 2012
Anthologized in Contemporary Haibun, 14, 2013