8 Haiku's Poem by Leon Moon

clouds slip over our
clay spotted hands, clotted hours
flick flames to flower.

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and chattering wind
unbothers him; toils to bone
and sunbathes within.

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and I welcome sleep
at last. opposite, a wife
carries the horror of war.

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the room is a sphere
it stretches for miles, turning
as a hallway is.

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the company of words.
an enterprise of souls.
a perfect loneliness.

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the long fought for shore:
the blessed last trip, dawn's torn heart
— our aquatic bond.

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the shell of our cleave
rescinds our dreams, the rapture
ruptures dawn to breathe.

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bourn indelible
the orphans of emerald isle
scorch wind; birds still sing.