Haiga Archive

lost in twilight—
a fish hook glints
on the long-line

coming dusk…
the empty space
in a coyote’s call

abandoned homestead
a memory
of past lives

:in all of us
comes and goes, like a flash
or a pot of cerulean ink
uncovered, dissipates
what’s left

glass bowl…
webbed feet
hitting the surface

picking apples
I follow the bees
to the sweetest tree

in the night
a black swan landed
with stars at its back.
I envied her when she left
and let go of this world…