The poison bottle
held memories of her past
trying not to smile
Filed under As you read it, Haiku, Self compositions
Poetry from my pen
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Her past leaves much to be imagined.
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A dark Haiku. Is she the poisoner or the poisoney
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Enigmatic, like the smile
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I really like the tone. This is one of those poems that stays with you.
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It reminded me of something. I realized it as soon as I left your page. I came back to tell you I know what it is: an old 1940’s film noir.
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I can’t say it was an influence I’m afraid but the oldies are generally goldies
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