Day 2828

March 31, 2013

Day 2828

Sundays used to mean
a movie, sushi, pizza
or Chinese takeout.

Sundays’ meaning changed.
It became a home-cooked meal,
good talks and TV

Grandpa told my Mom
Sunday nights could be the worst,
after Grandma passed.

The way a week ends
can become a loved habit
that’s hard to release



March 28, 2013

if “heartbreak inspires”,

then I should be good to go

for many haikus

Day 2827

March 28, 2013
Day 2827
sounds heard through the floor:
phone buzzing, TV squawking,
and water running

Day 2826

March 26, 2013
Day 2826
Some leaves never fell,
they held on, shaped by the wind;
they’re golden stalwarts

Day 2825

March 25, 2013
Day 2825
Remember, the sun,
its presence, is a constant
and all clouds will pass.

Day 2824

March 23, 2013
Day 2824
I sat on the couch,
transported by ink, paper
to lands far away.

Day 2823

March 22, 2013

Day 2823
I looked to my left,
from the bluff’s shadowed footpath,
to the sunlit woods