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Cape Cod, United States
__I see with young eyes, an old mirror. Here, I hope to offer... as I see.

Monday, September 14, 2009

morning
a fog curls
this night's lingered trinket
where turns of change to new day's sun
holds secrets

8 comments:

Frank Williams said...

A very nice poem Magyar...

Lorraine said...

bEautiful, enchanting feeling in your Haikus, I don't think I can ever write it the way you do...

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

I love the secrets this piece has within it. It is almost like it teases us knowing something we do not.

Well done!

Kristin Riggs said...

I love this, Magyar. Fantastic...I can just feel that fog "curling" around me...fantastic!!!

John McDonald said...

has the lovely twists of fine tracery
john

Janice Thomson said...

Beautiful delicate cinquain. There's something very mystical about a fog some days...

RBroeker said...

Hopefully this is all about romantics. But I wouldn't be surprised to find a scene like this in a story about London, taking place in the 19th century. So: this poem opens its story in me. Is there a better thing to say?

Best wishes
Ralf

J. Andrew Lockhart said...

very nice!