Haiga Archive

together once more
in our old folk’s house—
two straw hats hanging
on the antler
of a glass-eyed deer

cracking ice
around the hole—
on my birthday
many condolences
and a few fish

walking back and forth
on my own footsteps
dying embers

old hands
getting new wings—
snow angel

grenade—
a mutilated rose
woos bees

first snowflakes
on the weckage
of a boat…
the same dog from yesterday
walking on the shore

after divorce—
the fleas
of your dog
are still
in my bed