April has been nuts

Here's a three-fer. I didn't post last night due to having to relax.
Sculptors have to rest their fingers.
Artists have to rest the same.
The same goes for the poet and the writer. So, here are my newest three: a haiku and two shadorma.

The Mechanics of Pen and Paper
Despite the late hour,
my fingers turn and spin out
subtle ironies.

Into the Dead
“In the night,
sweep along the east
banks of the
River Dang.
There you will find the man who
slaughtered your children.”

I crept ’til
my fingers felt numb,
my heart beat
no longer,
and when I found him, he was
dead in his slumber

Story
My dad is
a man of few words.
Mom is quite
opposite.
She can wrap
you into the delicate fibers
of our ancient songs.

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