I take a bath with a
Blue haiku –
The fewer the words
The more July the language.
So much steam.
I am a puddle in a pool
In a pond.
When I evaporate
No one notices.
Not even me.
I rise to the brevity
Of language and
Citric summer
I take a bath with a
Blue haiku –
The fewer the words
The more July the language.
So much steam.
I am a puddle in a pool
In a pond.
When I evaporate
No one notices.
Not even me.
I rise to the brevity
Of language and
Citric summer
