Poetry

Haiku...

"... Well-armed soldiers could not defy one better ..."

"...How is it not a genocide, Charumbira?..."

"...Someone close to him died..."

"...dishes in the sink without her lipstick..."

F.D. Jackson lives in the southeastern U.S., along with her husband and sundry furry family members. She writes about loss/grief and the restorative and transformative power of nature and anything else that piques her interest.

"...what everything boils down to in the end..."

"...I move on and on without motive..."

"...farmer’s toil in soil, and miller’s grinding at the wheel..."

"Mine is a tragi-comic tale..."

"...you’d kiss my lips, sweep all worries away..."

"...how they run with incredible intent..."

"...A revelation, wanting to be immortalized in words..."

"... this is our first real conversation..."

"...Mosi-Oa-Tunya National Park , a UNESCO World Heritage Site..."

"...I'd long been insecure about how I’d come off..."

"...Not contained by ribbons..."

"...please love your spaghetti..."

"...kiss after kiss..."

"...Pleasing an audience is a slippery sport..."

"...love starting from emptiness remains in the dark shadow of emptiness..."

"...even they come back..."

"...we knew that we felt that love..."

"...that past of laxity and ashes..."

"...especially when it's minus fifteen..."

"...I woke to the great city, cars people, buildings..."

"...Another loss handshakes the old losses..."

"...my skeletons are tumbling ..."

"...swim into eternal days like this..."

"...when power meant steam and strawberries were seasonal..."