Dr. Agonson: The Undying Heart

  I swear never my heart to give again, but locked away, letting it rest awhile out of the air—a shoebox burial— keeping its memory, so to forget the unfulfilled future. It still won’t die. I hear its thumping underground, beneath the wet soft earth it pounds and pounds. It will not go unheard. I

Haiku Poems – Howling through Trees

Wind touches my skin, and I shiver as winter unravels my clothes.   I hear souls howling through the trees in search of fruits now out of their reach.   The decaying pelt of once succulent berries – dried and unwanted.   Frigid ice and cold crush and numb this whirling pain – a storm that