Haiga Archive

a mirage
of mountains beckons
us homeward
we don’t know their names,
but they know ours

polar night
a snowy owl
fades to black
 

persimmons
peeled and hanging
out to dry…
autumn’s harvest
shines brighter this year

it was
as if she were
a butterfly
the way words flew
from her open hands

the fragility
of glass sponge reefs…
after all this time
we learn something new
about each other

solstice
northern lights dance
with the dark

snowlight
outside my window
a flurry of finches