Haiku Too

Spring, cruelest season,
offer flowered hope:
dogs of war pissing.

I saw your eyes then.
They were clear as mirror glass.
You looked: didn’t smile.

Absinthe tastes bitter.
Oh, what I’ll do for pleasure….
forget aftertaste.

I got in my groove
tooled around for a while…
found myself back home.

Certain death awaits…
got to have my coffee now.
I’ll worry later.

Friends come and friends go.
My teacher never leaves me.
Our minds are the same.

Lucky in this life,
I’ve done what I could to help
dancing through horror.