© 2018 Hansha Teki

January 2016

New Year's dawn
the familiarity
of this light

a cool start
vastness takes on
the comfort of blue

first page
the plum tree
picked clean

New Year
morning glances off
everything

the freshness now
of what will not be
at year's end

carbon footprint
I feed my inner 
phytoplankton

new diary
my carbon footprint
in ink blots

it begins
coolness tramped down
far underfoot

new year heat
valley hills soften into
a misty blue

who knew?
all the old out 
with the news

fumbling for words
i smarten up
with txts

tsk tsk!
forget the elephant 
that never

gr8 2 c u
disremembered
2

silence
without doubt
new moon

a child screams
"I can't feel my brain"
moonless sky
 
 

from her hair
a chill exodus
of lice

light casts
a new perspective
on loss

light repatterns
my neural pathways
through a stream

in darkness
the slow tolling
of my blood

leaf whispers through the family tree

one last
flutterance
bird song

spring disappears
with the memories I had
of who I was then

slow across a calendar days unnumbered

birth silence 
a bag of bones cradled
in my arms

this rose alacks incentive

dark moon-rise
a swell of emptiness
in bated chests 

polar melt—
a white crossed landscape 
to die for

with this haiku
all the blank spaces
fit together

down fall
everything 
I ever knew

way up north
tyranny becomes
the new clear