The South’s version of
global warming: balmy day
in January.

• • •

Read more haiku.

Tables, columns and
rows intersect in measured
formulas and grids.

• • •

Read more haiku.

I like reading so
much, books surround me and keep
me turning pages.

• • •

Read more haiku.

Late-night escapades
catch up with you in the cold
light of getting up.

• • •

Read more haiku.

The best-tasting snacks
at the movies are the ones
smuggled from outside.

• • •

Read more haiku.

We think we’re happy,
for a little while, at least,
and then the sun shines.

• • •

Read more haiku.

Wait! I was going
to tell you something else, but
it has slipped my mind.

• • •

Read more haiku.

How many ways are
there to say purple and pink?
Shades of meaning blur.

• • •

Read more haiku.

Cryptic notes provide
little insight for workings
of deranged psyches.

• • •

Read more haiku.

The old car groans in
agony with winter’s brute
force driving down temps.

• • •

Read more haiku.

Resolve not to make
great leaps but tiny steps to
take each passing day.

• • •

Read more haiku.

Pop pop pop goes the
gunfire, the champagne corks
of our rowdy hood.

• • •

Read more haiku.

The signal phases
in and out, but the caller’s
voice stays in my head.

• • •

Read more haiku.

Among the cupboards,
we huddle to bask in each
other’s friendly glow.

• • •

Read more haiku.

Vacant stares greet my
eyes from all points, including
my own reflection.

• • •

Read more haiku.