Mourning haiku

Summer shrieks my deep loss-

the sun burns away all blossoms, harshly.

A surfeit of bright light.


We slept that last time-

Orchids and bromeliads watched in purple silence.

You said: do not weep.


I can no longer write.

Everything is poorly made, missing lines.

Somewhere the bluebird’s laughter hides.


The cats dawdle over food.

A young bluebird hops branch to branch.

The three-legged raccoon waits patiently.


Outside my window summer waits.

My love is visiting a dark abode.

The stars outside are silent.


Why count lines so

When the music weeps?

Bereavement is an abyss.

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