The Loss of a Dream

Floorboards creak.

She creeps to me where I lie asleep,

tears on her cheeks, voice cracked with sleep.

"Nightmare?" I ask, sweeping the sheet...

Decay and Fall

Is a mouthful of crumbling concrete
a sign for a cleaning and check-up
asked our professor Doctor English about

a simple operation on my upper lip
to make it plumper, a little stitch at the corner
by a white-coated girl in the barbershop’s

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Bathtime

Hundreds of fleeting bubbles pop

with the sweep of an arm,

the splash

of a foot.

Punctuated with little girl voices:

"Pretend we're princesses."

"Pretend we're getting married."

Mounds of luminous bubbles

pile high on their heads--

delicate, ephemeral crowns.

Hundreds of fleeting bubbles pop,

autumn haiku

curled up

in the hollow of the night ....