Haiga Archive

Cinnamon moon
guiding us
on the road to Athens

the butterfly’s
drunken flight…
contact high

green ovals
red circles
learning shapes and colors
at the supermarket

her look so cold
cold like an autumn dawn
enveloped in the fog
but why d’you hide your smile
in the corners of your red lips

butterfly wings…
her blue rattle
lies untouched

akar wangi scent
when I open dad’s closet
a golden moon

her last work
lighting
another candle