Haiku Attack!

Sunday, December 30, 2012

He was the first one
to go, then her, in pieces.
Then the boy left too.

Hope is on a shelf
next to fear, more dusty, but
so much more useful.

Almost at the end
of this blog, of my thirties,
of so many things.

Backseat in a car
means you're not watching other
ill-equipped drivers.

There's no believing
in another world beyond,
not where I'm standing.

Christmas reminds me
of the racist thing my mom
said to my sister.

What sadness to read
little drops of poetry,
black ink in a well.