Tag Archives: American Haiku

Redemption

by Kate Garrett


Look up – trees branch like black
veins across the sky’s deepening
blue skin; I can’t hear the beat
of this word without a piece
of me shrinking –

there were things
sex & song couldn’t smooth
away, things pints of beer
wouldn’t wash off, despite his
heart making sixty promises per minute.

Maybe it doesn’t exist, a dream
like written and rewritten lyrics;
maybe it’s a distant
old thing, like stars. Redemption.
The way it bumps right off the tongue.

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The girl wanders

by Kate Garrett


the shifting border
between waves, clouds and sand
where she searches

for lost things –
salt wind and foam-kissed stones
lead her away

not far enough –
her heart looks out beyond
her restless feet.