by Ayaz Daryl

yesterday’s main streets
all the half-
remembered somethings 
moths shuffle
across window screens 
a ray of sunshine finds 
the long lost button 
pesos in the stairwell 
of a small shop 
under the stairs 
cheap seats 
with a good view 
personal, random 
encounters of an 
unusual kind 
a worn path 
through graveyards 
grama grass nods 
with twilight’s caress 
reassurance that 
what seems invisible 
won’t stay that way 
“Oh!”, I say to myself, 
refilling the coffee cop, 
adding a splash of 
half-and-half, “oh”

Ayaz Daryl Nielsen, who has been a hospice nurse and roughneck (as on oil rigs), lives in Longmont, Colorado. He is editor of Bear Creek Haiku (26 years/127 issues) and an award-winning poet with hundreds of poems published worldwide. His poetry collection haiku tumbleweeds still tumbling is at Amazon.com, and he is online at bearcreekhaiku.blogspot.com.

Send poetry submissions of 250 words or fewer to poetry@boulderweekly.com.