f/k/a . . .

Nearly midnight: it’s too late to squeeze out any punditry,

but there’s no reason not to savor some of Gary Hotham’s

breathmarks: haiku to read in the dark before bedtime:

 

 

night snow–

the house

creaks

 

 

my move

their move

morning clouds

 

 

 

 

deserted tennis court

      wind through the net

 

 

 

 

loud wind

the bed unmade

all day

 

gary hotham 

from breathmarks: haiku to read in the dark 

 

 

 

• 
  
  by dagosan                                               

snow falls

from a low gray sky -

she lifts the sauce pan lid

 

                           [Dec. 3, 2004] 

                                                                                                                                                            

 

Nearly midnight: it’s too late to squeeze out any punditry,

but there’s no reason not to savor some of Gary Hotham’s

breathmarks: haiku to read in the dark before bedtime:

 

 

night snow–

the house

creaks

 

 

my move

their move

morning clouds

 

 

 

 

deserted tennis court

      wind through the net

 

 

 

 

loud wind

the bed unmade

all day

 

gary hotham 

from breathmarks: haiku to read in the dark 

 

 

 

• 
  
  by dagosan                                               

snow falls

from a low gray sky -

she lifts the sauce pan lid

 

                           [Dec. 3, 2004]