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tinywords

haiku & other small poems

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Author: Angie Werren

Angie Werren lives (and writes) in a tiny house. Sometimes she takes pictures of things in the yard. For more information on her micropoetry, please visit "feathers" -- http://triflings.wordpress.com/
without a way to find you mourning dove  
Posted on 13 April 202011 April 2020Author Angie WerrenCategories Issue 20.110 Comments on
nearly spring — a shadow of the words you left behind (haiga)
Posted on 16 May 2014Author Angie WerrenCategories Issue 14.1Tags haiga6 Comments on
there is nothing to do but keep still howling wind
Posted on 6 February 201425 January 2014Author Angie WerrenCategories Issue 13.310 Comments on
news of your death when I open my eyes green leaves       (previously published in the May/ June 2012 Sketchbook, 3rd place in the SSH Summer Kigo contest)
Posted on 3 October 20121 October 2012Author Angie WerrenCategories Issue 12.18 Comments on
he thinks again of turning leaves her hands
Posted on 17 November 201113 November 2011Author Angie WerrenCategories Issue 11.3Tags autumn, haiku, one line8 Comments on
today slips into the room ? hungry on tiny paws (haiga)
Posted on 19 October 201115 October 2011Author Angie WerrenCategories Issue 11.2Tags cats, haiga13 Comments on

empty nest

empty nest still the bird sings (haiga)
Posted on 11 February 201112 February 2011Author Angie WerrenCategories Issue 11.1Tags haiga12 Comments on empty nest
a solitary bird calls to the space between lightning and thunder
Posted on 11 August 20109 August 2010Author Angie WerrenCategories Issue 10.2Tags birds, lightning, micropoetry, one line, rain, summer, thunder11 Comments on
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