March Haiku III

The moon sings tonight,
Of dreams, hubris and lore.
Hums in a rain cloud.

March Haiku II

In your arms tonight,
The sentiverse turned axes.
Burnt white with mute love.

March Haiku

Cinnamon coloured,
Tepid, post-spring, twilight sky,
Turns a spiral; falls.

Fragment II

Love, to be, must mean
You read each word I ever write
Like you wrote it first.

Fragment I

Selfish waterworks,
Perfectly synchronized now
With my winter's heart.

A tortured Haiku

Freezing cold outside;
Inside, heat from hundred yawns.
Better out than in.