Not Haiku

waterfall mist





Have I seen you in the mist;

was that you that rustled the leaves

turning summer colors to fall along

the byways of my life?  

fall leaves





Were you the silent listener 

when I hardly breathed, drifted from 

dream to fancy and back to reality; 

too tired to touch and paint skies by night

or brush star-crossed nebulae by day?




Shall I turn to you when I need

a friend or fear that I am lost 

without space, needing to know 

someone to hold onto, a universe

or a star-galaxy, my Milky Way or …

an Earth?







Just when I was thinking: 

only I am me, and that only

you are you, the truth was that 

we are we — you and me;

occupiers of the misty leaves, the 

colors, clouds and rainbows …

      Copyright 2012 by Ron Kule. All Rights Reserved.