The Bishop and the Butterfly: Murder, Politics, and the End of the Jazz Age

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A Deplorable/Adorable Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

Thoughts, planted wisely,
blossom in reluctant minds,
when the time is right.

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Autumn in Hiding on a Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

 

Here's this week's heap of haikus:

 

 

 

 

A golden surfer
rides a quiet wave to shore
the world is at peace.

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Yet Another Laborious Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

 

 

 

Here's this week's heap of haikus: 

 

 

Autumn taught 'em, when
the first leaf falls from a tree
Summer soon will wane.



 ( I saw that first leaf today, lying quietly on the sidewalk.)

 

 

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A Feckless, Freckled Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

Drunk and bewildered ...
Well, here I am, 2 PM.
Heck, what day is it?

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A Sunny and Summer-y Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

A rusty Ford coupe
parked in the driveway of a
two room bungalow.

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A Ubiquitous Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

In the morning light,
a sailboat on the Hudson,
moves as in a dream.

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A Tweet-baiting Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

A wise old man sat
amidst the rubble and smiled
at all he had learned.

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A Blissfully Ignorant Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

 

Quietly, the dusk
soothes the ocean waters and
calms the day for night.

 

(Photo courtesy Kristina Rebelo)

 

 

Here's the rest of this week's heap of haikus:

 

Special Edition: *You-Do-the-Haiku*

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A Non-Dystopian Friday Afternoon at the Haikulodeon

 

 

 

 


Here's this week's heap of haikus:

 


Love may seem like a
fallowed field, but Love won't yield
a random harvest.

 

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