Four haiku with a tanka couplet

 

 

The last bits of blood

And flesh licked clean long ago

By a parched dead tongue;

 

The dry wind scatters

Sand across the blasted sky.

No one sees the bones.

 

What are words, but dust?

An unwritten love letter waits

On lovers to wake.

 

The bed’s rumpled sheets

Lie tangled across the floor,

Seaweed on the beach.

 

Unrelenting heat pulses

Well after the setting sun.

 

(November 5, 2017)