Tiny crowds within, Our bodies that we won’t know, Without microscopes.
The secret of love, Is giving and receiving, Without possessing.
If I write nothing, My characters will be hurt, And so I must write.
Stories always change, From idea to finished work, Don’t get too attached.
Writing fiction is, Having empathy with those, Who do not exist.
April is both National Poetry Month and Indie Author Month. Each day throughout the month, I’ll post a haiku, a story part, or both. Full of creation, Restful beauty or darkness, Deep human nature.
Happiness can be, Found easily and yet we, Never stop searching.