Strange days are turning.
Rough deeds beget dust, no more,
Haunted by my past
Rough ghosts assail me
Strange fruits turn to dust and ash
Clogging in my maw
It’s the ghost of her.
Dust turning in eve’s strange light
Rough-forms her image
I cry.
Written for secret keeper’s weekly poem prompt, using – ghost rough dust strange turn. http://thesecretkeeper.net/2015/12/14/weekly-writing-prompt-15/
flickr.com/photos/garytrinity/2645250035
BOO! Who? YOU?? Don’t cry
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Thanks, Casper!
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Wowza, this is exquisitely beautiful.
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Thank you 🙂
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Welcome.
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What an image. Read Haiku before looking upon it. You worked the 5 words like magic making form appear and disappear. They always show up. Every word in each Haiku giving its meaning true.Your Haiku, to me, is like bending metal to your will. It is what you command of your wording. Each presentation they obey and find their designated place to create the perfect form of a meaningful set of one to multiple Haiku. Excellent. – jk
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Thank you so much… am probably going to use some of this as testimonials on my “about” page in the new year, if that’s okay?
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Oh, yes, for sure. 🙂
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