Haiku #407 – #410

407.

Irony governed me;
When I knew too late I lived,
Instead I found this.

408.

Poetry unites
With struggles for the best form,
Struggles bear poems

409.

Like fruit found hanging
Could not conceive to explore
What was not before.

410.

The messenger knocks
Three times, steps back with parcels,
Postworkers new gods.

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