Band aid, please

Haiku . . . . God bless you!

The first time I read a poem written in the Haiku style . . . . I mumbled to myself "And then . . . " Nothing. Three scantly clothed lines. If that poem were a girl, you would have thought it was a stripper. Bare and unashamed. You know what I mean? I am stereotyping here, please play along. That poem was bare, unashamed of what it was, had an attitude and I would only throw a one dollar bill at it.

Then about three months later, the stripper moved into my brain. I had this simple little Haiku poem that wouldn't leave. I laughed at it, it stayed. I tried to forget it, it remembered. So, here it is. My first attempt at Haiku.

I call it . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . "Band aid, please"

Warm sand, scent of salt

Wet towel, snap!

Red welt rising

Yes, I know somethings are better left unsaid. 

I just couldn't resist.

Ciao for Now, Y'all