the teacher asks
a direct question—
her face
the sun-bleached clam shell
inspected by a gull—
low tide
sleepless—
the nightlight
is burned out
listening to
Billie Holiday again—
candle drips
he tells us
about his auctioned house—
rubbing my eyes
I like the structure and rhythm of this one. The images are challenging and evocative.
Nice one- enjoyed reading the haiku string