Haiku Collection #6

Foreign departures
Leading to neon cities
That are not here

Through a blue window
Standing at the gates looking
At a bright future

A far off land lives
In ferns and this song that I
Use to be with her

Deep chimes sound, wood floors
Creak, fire pops, and there are no
Self pity whispers

White freedom clatters
In the driveway, connecting
Dots of sin our life

The outside’s inside,
A ride at the park, fudge brown
Jeep with kids in back

Sweet smoke barbecue
When mustangs zip above
Old aces, eyes wide