Haiku by Thomas Page

  The november rains  Pour down into the foggy Plains b’low hidden sun.  The faux-jade apple  On the faux-mahogany  Desk. Are these hands real? I cannot name the  Stars more ancient than I am With lights eclipsed now.  The trees grew orange-red,  The others stayed green-yellow, The trunks look the same.  The palm-reader’s map--  Like … Continue reading Haiku by Thomas Page