a 5-7-5 haiku

I climb the dark road,

till I meet another lone

traveller, the moon.

Recounting a Traveller’s Tale

Traveling down a parched rural road
I came across a rank eviscerated trunk
Its ribs as though jutting from soil
Ivory stems doused in ebony blood
Blindly walking forward away from the bones
I looked back to the stories in paper
Odorless words like sanctions and bombs
While the merciless sun shone brighter
And the wind trying to twist away the news
As though I were in some Aesop’s fable

Years later when I’ve recounted the tale
Often enough like a sailor fighting off doubts
I can no longer be sure what I saw or whose