The New Haiku Vol. 2
Tall summer grass reveals the shape of the breeze; only the siren of insects. 0 Even here among the snow-swept, desolate hinterlands of my consciousness the itinerant shepherds sing your praises. 0 When nothing else is, at least the rain is true. 0 The ego is a traveler walking barefoot and wide-eyed through the landscape […]
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