cherry blossoms
I fold my resume
into a crane
(haiga)
Author: Barry Goodmann
Barry Goodmann (bgoodmann at aol.com) is a poet, writer and editor who lives in the New York metropolitan area. He has published poetry on several websites and in various literary magazines.
again and again
a little girl makes it rain
cherry blossoms
just a flat tire
chained to a lamppost
waning autumn moon
gallery tour
the ladies gaze
at the dozing watchman
beach party
the last drop of sunlight
caught in a glass
gone
with the storm
the wind chimes
my neighbors quarrel
deep into the night
covered with blossoms
a business card
floats on the pond
walking barefoot
in the mud
a young woman
carries the world
on her head
with a crooked branch
I knock the last leaf
off the tree
winter nightfall
old snow
the streetwalker
gives Santa a hug
strip mall
a wild turkey pecks
at a hubcap
Roosevelt Island
the ruins of the hospital
touched by graffiti
my old school
the water fountain
much too low
outside the hospital
the nurses take a drag
moon almost full
crash
the bicycle wheel
still spinning
the still pond
a frog jumps in
Gulp!
broken string
the dragon kite swims
into the wave
the red balloon
begins to sink
last call
spinning
the big dipper
with a finger
urban highway
a young man walking
the divider
cocktail party
the businessman’s name tag
upside down
morning haze
atop a midtown building
a crane at work