One of Michael’s earliest memories is of sitting in his crib with a box of crayons, captivated by that enormous white bedsheet. He pushed aside any extraneous objects and drew an undersea mural over most of it. Since then, the empty page has always been a source of excitement.
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far from home . . .
all the park’s benches
after a rain
Haiku World, May 2003
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myself seeing myselves seeing myselves who told me I was naked
bones journal for contemporary haiku, March 2018
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orange daylilies
frequently singing
AC/DC songs
Kingfisher, October 2023
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