A lingering frost
threatens our prized lemon tree—
you ignore my touch.
© Nancy Botta, 2023
Tag Archives: poem
Almost over. (not-quite-a-haiku)
Rattled old visions
from the thin side of panic;
wet eyes in the dark.
© Nancy Botta, 2022
Glint. (haiku)
When the moon rises
river quartz glitters the shore;
stars beneath the sky.
© Nancy Botta, 2021
Holy weapons. (senryu)
Brushing ash off bone
half men crawl though bitter fields—
glory be the light.
© Nancy Botta, 2021
Shush. (haiku)
Every so often
the willow twists and shivers;
a long sleepless night.
© Nancy Botta, 2021
Rusted Honey 