Sand in the floor mats.
Surfboards speared through the backseat.
Waves at dusk whisper.
Tag: Haiku
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Merciless jungle.
Poison arrows, Jaguars lurk.
Radio silence.
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Old manhole covers,
rusted steel. What lives beneath?
I’ll never reveal.
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Steamed towel. Sweat pores.
Graceful straight razor, aftershave.
Stiff spined, I howl.
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Mansions scream out. Tents
hide beneath the canopy.
Light rails dart above.
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Midnight clouds at noon.
Santa hats spackle the stands.
Scarlet scarves warm them.
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Frosted morning grass.
Rusted goalposts stand alone.
First twenty two play.
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Jack-O-Lanterns rot.
Red bellied squirrels wander.
Dortmund four points clear.
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THE Spanish derby.
The difference? Joaquín. Had the squad rapt, reciting some pre-match poetry and asking are they not entertained?
Comes on, scores the winning header.
The mayor has spoken.
Floodlights and Goalposts 