gary c. busha | canoe haiku

On a cold moon lit night
I can hide from my bad self
but not my shadow.

Standing on the bridge
i know the water below
i will not see again.

is turning over old boards:
watching bugs scatter.

After much reading
! know what I have to say
has been said before.

Some habits are good:
early morning lying in bed
skipping stones in the bay.

Here are the loud ones:
crash bang and slam through life

Death hides in corners
cowering and confident
in its sticky web.

Talking niceties
I say what you want to hear
nothing but bullshit.

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