Haiga Archive

parachute packing—
up there somewhere
a star begins to fall

dry river
Maasai at the bridge
sells water

an open cage
in the garden, singing
a forsythia bush

otwarta klatka
w ogrodzie rozśpiewał się
krzak forsycji

empty square
whispers and voices softening
in the mist

old rectory
white priest is guarded
by the Maasai

weather change
in a forgotten haven
as quiet as yesterday

after the first date
everything smells
like you