Post election day, I’m back to a familiar question: does poetry matter? It matters.
Little Framed Picture
In a Kimono
standing gracefully—
being Japanese.
Her Dinner Solo
Miso soup, white rice,
fermented beans, squid,
cold beer, memories.
Young Again
The sun rises
outside her green room. Inside,
she cat stretches.
Her Season
Wishing a golden
Haiku: Fall leaves fall—
our walk has her smile.
Cloudy Night
Beneath harvest moon,
we walk wishing
stars were not hiding.
Dreaming
Will she see tonight
pink cherry blossom petals
falling or flying?
Andrés Castro
October, 2016
Revised January, 2017
Until next time,
keep writing.
Peace,
Andrés