Haiga Archive

perfect
in its imperfection
not-quite-full moon

ruined monastery
the echo of the prayers lies
on falling leaves

in Lisbon
you hold my hand
in the third row
while women in black sing
something nice and sad…

frost…
my breath melting
the window lace

cracking ice
around the hole—
on my birthday
many condolences
and a few fish

under the moonlight
as beautiful as
a butterfly

cloudy day
only autumn trees
give light

pochmurny dzień
świecą tylko
jesienne drzewa