On this mid-December Friday evening, faced with too many
“holiday” preparations unfinished (or unstarted), I need a few
moments with the haiku of Andrew Riutta. May they bring
you a bit of serenity, too:
“snowflakeS”
one day
becomes another–
the sound of snow
moonhaze—
getting too old
for secrets
in her silence
the tea kettle
announces winter
“snowflakeS”
almost midnight . . .
the flowers on her scarf
impossible to pick
resting her head
in her own hands—
moonless night
“snowflakeS”
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