one less hour

she runs through the day
drizzled with disasters
small, senseless marbles
that might trip her

and so she collects
her marbles
and carries on

Caught

she walks in silence
the long arm of the wind pushes her
her branches quiver
she stumbles on a moss blanketed rock
and is sustained
by a Pine Tree

its thick brush
does not let her fall

poem by Laurie Molloy - please see photo credit under image

 

By Rusalina - Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4395502

orange marmalade

off orange goop
rocky glops like mountain tops
inedible toast sauce

Dream Sower

she, a night farmer
flips the pages

is the reader that lives
in the garden's secret life
a sentence traveler that has
blossomed in many minds

she cultivates better tomorrows
and hopes...
that dawn may bring her rest

from midnight through sunrise
she casts the seeds
that dreams are made of

brown gravy

slips and drips through its
ceramic decorative boat
only once per year

booger green

A while ago I wrote a bunch of haiku about the colors of the rainbow. And now the silly color haiku begin!

I drip down the edge
crusted nose, shirt cuff catches
my slippery smear

i person

The I generation
of the I want
and the I phone
and the I'm getting
a text
and the ttyl

omg, cu later...

Doesn't matter
if you are generation
X or Y
right know
it's all about
I