A blog in honor of Ernest Hemingway's continual search for the perfect sentence. Now in a new and improved haiku format!
In the distance a
saxophone plays as the sun
sets on a dead town
Some days an inner
fire rages and asks rather
rudely for release
Gone so long you've been
but in every corner
there you are again
A trace of perfume
on the air, but no one in
sight — ghostly ascent?