Haiku 23

Photo Credit: Queen Of Light and Joy.Licensed CC-BY-SA.
Photo Credit: Queen Of Light and Joy.
Licensed CC-BY-SA.
Rainwater undulates
down pavement crevices
what has brought me here?

A hanging offense
but the hangman’s retired
steel doors slam and click.

What does a driver
feel, first time s/he pulls away
from someone running?

My mind runs away
with itself, hand in hand;
the bonds translucent.

Sharp scent of apple
the only thing not leaden
Again, November.

I taste her rainfall,
salty; then touch her jungle,
hinting monsoon.

Old Chinese stringman
in the park, tries “Jingle Bells”
then “Oh! Susanna”

Strange morning peace
she is dying, yet I feel
only the north wind.

If weary you grow
consider:  Your burp did not
exist yesterday.

On this shitty day
I guide one traveler, south
to King Street Station.

Winter moon slides
silently past my window,
waiting for sunrise.

Even in blue sky
the moon holds to its station
over Taco Time.

“The next train, northbound
is arriving in, two minutes”–
keep bootlaces tied.

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