Haiga Archive

what good were
my girls who grew up and left me?
feeding the birds at night
(page 2/10)

you’re up there
above the azores—
in your old room
a little cloud of incense
(page 1/10)

my singing bowl
half-filled with water…
i strike its rim
until ocean waves
manifest inside me

winter walk
haunted by shadows and reflections
of the past
do you ever wonder as I do
where all our days and nights have gone

in balance like
overlapping
stones—
apparent quiet

huge wheel…
zenith and nadir
revolving destinies

an egret calling my name…
strawberry moon