Late Night Haiku XLII

By Tim Butler | Posted at 0:00

CXIX. The porch light glows. Isolated
From anyone to enjoy
Its undarkening.

CXX. Silence. Rain passed.
Drip. Drip. Drip. The trees lose hold
Of storm-remnants. Drip.

CXXI. Crickets do not care.
They do not chirp at all now.
For it is still spring.


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