From The Immediate and No Sooner, 2021.
Tired waffle weave cloth
swipes its one-millionth wet plate.
Threads fray. Break. A hole.
three dirty sponges
huddled together squeezed dry
pants of exhaustion
skylight to ceiling –
up view from inside lampshade.
light bulb eyes its sky.
2 thoughts on “Haiku 833, 834, 835”
Ah! The sponges #834 is perfection!!!
Thank you. I give my sponges a hard life, if you were to ask them, that’s where I got this poem from!
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