by Ayaz Daryl
yesterday’s main streets
all the half-
remembered somethings
moths shuffle
across window screens
a ray of sunshine finds
the long lost button
pesos in the stairwell
of a small shop
under the stairs
cheap seats
with a good view
personal, random
encounters of an
unusual kind
a worn path
through graveyards
grama grass nods
with twilight’s caress
reassurance that
what seems invisible
won’t stay that way
“Oh!”, I say to myself,
refilling the coffee cop,
adding a splash of
half-and-half, “oh”
Ayaz Daryl Nielsen, who has been a hospice nurse and roughneck (as on oil rigs), lives in Longmont, Colorado. He is editor of Bear Creek Haiku (26 years/127 issues) and an award-winning poet with hundreds of poems published worldwide. His poetry collection haiku tumbleweeds still tumbling is at Amazon.com, and he is online at bearcreekhaiku.blogspot.com.
Send poetry submissions of 250 words or fewer to [email protected].
