When the Door Closes

My secret life as a poet, writer, photographer…



Winter Fog

Fog conceals briefly
naked trees, empty branches –
then cold sun rises.

Posted for the Daily Prompt: Inevitable
Haiku ©2016 V. del Casal All Rights Reserved

When winter burdens the land
with snow, bitter and ashen,
what bliss
to come upon this?
A warm palette on solid stone
halting on my lips further moans
for frost’s arrested mid-sting
as soon as I stepped within.

©2014 All Rights Reserved

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