Friday haiku 91

Outside, it’s still July
In my hotel room,
Late October

Friday haiku 90

Nothing moves
in this heat
except desire

Riga, my Riga

In the antique shop
on the ground floor
of the building
where my parents lived
the year they married
I thought I heard someone
call my name
as if I lived there
too, so long before
my birth in the camp.

Friday haiku 85

Missed deadline —
robins have eaten
all the berries

Friday haiku 83

A thousand messages
fill the night. “Over here!”
sing the chorus frogs.