Haiku for Day 380

bourbon-amber world tilts

sliding down that coffee-sweet glass

in crestfallen octaves

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: Roger Peterson, US Forest Service

Upriver (Day 352)

They say fondness 

makes the heart 

grow absent.

Well, you’re miles away 

in a driving rain,   

telling me you’re sorry 

from the middle 

of a desert, 

under a flotilla 

of amethyst clouds.

Never again will I let on 

that I love you—

you never believed me

when I said it out loud.

You built your dam upriver 

from my valley, and 

that water’s not going 

to trickle down again.

The shadows grow longer 

even earlier now, and 

we’ll never be as green 

as we were back then.

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: Skeeze via Pixabay