too much going on

taking refuge in my thoughts

searching for solace

* * *


is the last refuge to which

a scoundrel clings

steal little and they

throw you in jail – steal a lot

and they make you king

With apologies to Bob Dylan (who probably didn’t know he wrote haiku) and also to Samuel Johnson

* * *

Inspired by the prompt at

11 thoughts on “refuge

  1. Pingback: the first sign of my exile | ALICEVILLE

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