Haiga Archive

river is silent—
no trigger for the thaw,
suddenly starts talking

lunar haiku—
scratched by a shadow
straw mat

księżycowe haiku—
zarysowana cieniem
słomiana mata

sunday concert
the dragonflies gather
for Vivaldi

around the garden
invaded by crickets,
strawberry aromas
and the bird is silent…

toxic air—
the fireflies switch off
one by one

now there’s no one
to call my own
im going away
all the memories still
buzzing in my mind

time
to soak up the sunshine
soon…