Tonight I Won’t Compare You


to a cataract
falling through an iris
or a whisper

held to cold glass.
I won’t call you mother
and snatch pills

from milky hands
or see you comatose
in a star-flecked sky.

Tonight no lunacy
holds you in a glitter,
no deserts of illusion.

Tonight, waves rise
and trees grow rings.

Chris Bays teaches English at Clark State Community College in Springfield, Ohio. Prior to teaching, he was a business owner and world traveler, having lived in Germany and Turkey and visited most of Europe and parts of China. His haiku received Honorable Mention in the 2008 Key West Heritage House Robert Frost Poetry Contest. His work has appeared in Acorn, Frogpond, The Heron’s Nest, Modern Haiku, The Orangeroom Review, and Poetry Midwest. Recent work is forthcoming in Cantaraville.