Michael D Housewright

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Haiku Sunday - Memories of a Junkpile

This i the first time I have prefaced a Haiku Sunday. Juliet and I were out on a walk in our new urban development when we happened upon a pile of things strewn about a street corner. It was quite hard to believe that the items had not been intentionally and very likely maliciously dumped right across the street from our apartment building. It set our imaginations aflame with supposition and intrigue. Here is our interpretation of the mystery.

living on samples

trolling the aisles trying to look

different from before 

In the early morn

the baker of dreams pulls off

the covers himself

she put down the book

as the last drop of the bath

turned cool and ugly

On a new street we

sometimes see the city guys

holding their paint cans

Mother was charged with

separating the new from

no longer needed

Botswana was his

only memory and still

she took it from him

the nape of her neck

called to him as he hoisted

what remained of his heart

into the pickup

while she laid there lifeless and

with nothing to say

trying them on was

always more fun than wearing

these clunkers she thought

her final hope clung

to her clutching hands as the

tornado touched down