AN END OF THINGS
By Daniel Kenitz

I broke a log to find its truth;
the light was bent.
Observer's Folly spent the rest.
The sap was crisp and clean—
the dew's deposit to the dawn—
but like ceasing, pounding rain
everything ends up dry.
The log was rotted up inside,
a home uncivilized.
But had I kept the log upright,
it would have sheltered them instead.
Goodbye, my friends—
I found the truth—
The home is gone and dead as youth.

Three Haikus

introductions sting
with each new sigh of greeting
but how mom forgets
-
her 255 lips
smile through a little window
on his distant screen
-
she drove west to home
into memory’s gullet
then east forever

About the Author:

Daniel Kenitz is a writer and poet whose previous fiction has appeared in "Strangelet," "L'Allure Des Mots," and the University of Kentucky's "Limestone Journal." Kenitz is a graduate of the Writing Program at Cardinal Stritch University and writes out of southeast Wisconsin.