The last day of poetry month and my observance of it through a haiku a day. I love the practice. The mindfulness. I feel bittersweet. Even more so because I visited my high school in Springfield, Massachusetts. Except it is no longer my high school. A freak tornado hit the campus in 2007. It looks completely different. Naked. Forlorn. Not what it was. Not yet become something else. So strange. I could see the ghost of myself there. Wandering. Remembering.

after the wind left
one tree, one kiss beneath it
one sweet memory