Forest Sun Haikus

Softly she whispers,

“I breathe out the magic sun”

Song of Deborah. 

She tilts her tears back

Moon glow glides her silhouette

Diana’s Tango. 

Dancing sun in trees

Lures me into skirts and snares

Hearts chiseled in bark. 

Sit and be silent

The trees will say what needs said

The trees do not speak. 

Sun sparkled temple

Magic twig in her pocket

Old witch in a pew. 

Published by Michael Sean Erickson

I write, act, and produce films in Los Angeles. Everything else is conjecture.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: