Haiga Archive

the shortest day
awaiting the renewal
my phoenix
have you built your nest yet?

after the storm—
sun in the sky
and the ground

waking of the morning—
the sea of fog
embraces the hill

awakening—
petals trembling
at the first sunbeam

my keyboard…
those strong and rough
artisan’s hands

as i walk
humming ‘autumn leaves’
the wind steals
the memory of your voice
and my tears

never more
id, superego
and ego…
AI joining
the crowd