Three Haiku

by Elaine Mead

the once warm house grows
cold as grief penetrates the
constant hum of night.

burnt umber
hues remind me of
our decay. 

golden morning light
slices strips on the bare skin
you leave now for good.

Elaine is a writer and educator, currently based in Hobart, Tasmania. Her flash and micro fiction have been published with Reflex Press, Bath Flash Fiction, National Flash Fiction Day, Geelong Writers Anthology, and others. You can find her on most social media under @wordswithelaine