Kathryn Liebowitz

Shocked

At first, the flare is barely distinguishable from the metallic light of sunset glittering through the trees, but then it crackles along the ground, igniting the grass, blackening the fringe of saplings, ravishing the reeds to ring the pond with a flame that jars seeds into sprouting. 

the cool sheet
on the narrow white bed. . .
a dream ago   

---

About the Author

The practice of haiku and related forms brings Kathryn Liebowitz full circle reviving her love of the minimal, the spare, and the fragmented.  When not at her desk, Kathryn can be found walking the woodland trails near the home she shares with her husband in Groton, Massachusetts, or rock-hopping on the coast of Maine.