By Regina (Gina) Piroska
Tasmania, Australia
Exhaling, I hear the sound of my breath as I lean into the rising hush. A breeze plays with a bit of puffy down, picks it up, twirling, a vortex along a dusty pathway. A swallow circles the white bit of fluff that whirls this way, then that
until finally, in a suspended split-second, the bird snatches the fluff, flying quickly under the eaves of the deserted bank building
and deposits it into the newly-made nest.
small town
the second-hand shop sign
says ‘cash only’
2025 – Edited from a published version 2022
(Modern Haiku (print edition) – editor Roberta Beary)