Stoplight Haiku

it grows on you
it goes
it enfolds

blame is a county
in michigan
i visited

all my dogs
i never had
at my table, in full summer

(for a.l.s.)

time ago
ago it was
we broke, we broke ago

ruins of shoes
likened to poverty
wet sunny puddles becoming

tomato falls
from sandwich.
firetruck siren!

yellow pollen
piled in creek curves;
burgundy buds high as planes

little boy
waves from a bench
as I drive by