haiku – Aremyfeetofftheground

If wishes were horses

In market’s bustle,

I buy promises of time-

new shoes I don’t need.

When I was alive,

you quickened in bright crimsons.

When I was alive.

(Image: Wasan Tita/Shutterstock)

Bubbles are venous

in the red river’s valleys-

oxygenated.

In the wet of dream
she rides on the rocking horse,
gloves the mast of sleep.

Once the eyes were closed,
grey clouds were brought to boiling.
Insular, all else.

I am of the cave

Vying for creature comforts

A thumb sucking babe

Everything gets thin

Faulty ice on which we stand;

the shields of the heart.

Creepers of sunfire

paint the unmoving mountain,

awake its eagles.

It’s a strange thing-

I know Phobos and Deimos,

those named moons of Mars.

You put on those airs

Tripping the light fantastic

Falling down the stairs