Haiga Archive

no more ice cream—
strolling the river bank
in the wind’s eye

grenade—
a mutilated rose
woos bees

rain showers—
orange peel
on the hot asphalt

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

some chaos
of noisy birds and then again,
emptiness—
words are so ephemeral
I’d rather draw it for you

scent of a field
flooding from a tea bag—
perfect date

frost— the smile of a missing girl
in the window