296/365 - 300/365


02.05.11
I feel no need to write.
Yet, I lie to myself. Yes.
Tonight, I need words.

02.06.11
Locked in the garage
a mosquito hawk hovers,
darts across the floor.

02.07.11
The notions of haiku
spark less on days when walking
is not possible.

02.08.11
Day of mundane poems.
Yet, just watching you undress,
shifts the world’s axis.

02.09.11
The pond’s surface bends,
buckles, trying to break free.
Dogs bark at its heels.

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