Easel of a writer ( Read more... )

Frozen expression ( Read more... )

Open door ( Read more... )

Anger, he and she ( Read more... )

Anger, he and she ( Read more... )

A flag for her ( Read more... )

Rust ( Read more... )

Land ( Read more... )

Tangerine Lily
=====================
An egg yolk sun
spreads over that
marmalade grass.
Eyes in a trance.
Fingers pick up
the tangerine lily.
First in this patch.

“Is not it full of grace?”
the boy who has brought his
father to take a look,
cries out. The color of
delight is tangerine.
Suddenly the man feels
something is changing within.

Hope? What is it to her?

She presses the top of her walking stick

as if it is the “hope”, personified.

Count the number of the thud of its strokes

on the gravel path back to home.

So long is the way to the hope. Ask her.

The lamp on the table lights up. She won’t

have the power. Perhaps the electric-bulbs

will eradicate the allure of hope.

She looks to ( Read more... )