Five Haiku
The thrum of traffic
The laboured breathing of an
Exhausted planet
Beneath man made seas
Blue-faced wraiths of the dead haunt
Diluvian worlds
No more bee loud glade
Barren flowers bow their heads
Shedding acid tears
Dried cracked creeks, bleached bones
Searing sun, shimmering heat
World of scavengers
Grey shape on snow thaw
The last polar bear’s eyes close
Waiting for winter.
Terry Wassall