A Stranger in a Land of Strangers

a bitter wind
after the inauguration
the white fence
between my neighbor and me
three feet higher

I peep through gaps in the fence
and see ... what do I see?

A dream house made up of words
and a neon sign on its roof,
flashing "Americans First."

I can't live in this promised land anymore.
The land is polluted by drunken words.
And the milk is sour, the honey tasteless.

Haibun Today, 11:2, June 2017