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Poetry on Our Travels

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Life can be hell out here, especially when our greatest threat, even after all that has happened, are still humans.

But sometimes we get to be human again, we get our alone times, special meetings, campfire stories of the past, and sometimes I get a chance, on scrap of paper, piece of bark, anything I can, to continue my life passion, poetry.

Some of these people are dead or gone, but it was the moment that was important. Here are some poems I wrote to record those moments, in the haiku form, each untitled, and separate:


moonlit bats skim the water should I touch her


children on the hill

their silhouettes between

my thumb and finger


her reflection in the window

we have talked too much

the silence


winter moon

a cat meows

outside of the door

If you have your own memory to recall, poetry or prose, please add it hear. I hope we will meet, I have more to share, and more to write.

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