 clouds
peak
//welcome//submit//haiku//links//
Scott Metz
the first butterfly while she's asleep father's camera
rewinding . . . first cherry blossoms ploughed fields the same but not the same stars autumn twilight . . .
the cicada's voice is a child's winter clarity
the texture of unpainted masks Doll Festival . . .
the stone he kicks turns heads the temple's music
all the way down the mountain |