My Scrapbook

from “Reading Matsuo Bashō,” by Gemma Gorga (translated by Sharon Dolin):

I wonder: how many syllables must I remove
to make a perfect haiku from my life?

From “Joyeux Noël” by Gemma Gorga (translated by Sharon Dolin):

While you try ordering yourself in the midst of the disorder
of my hands, the afternoon melts like a clump of snow.

From Fletcher’s Field, by Derek Webster in @columba_poetry:

All these years, I have lived as if a thought
could sink me like a paper boat
and have tried to trace back the creek
that carried me out to sea.