windrag : poetry : journal

:: f : w : i : w ::

Category: poem

legacy

clear spring night: the train– the sound that draws us to ask: where are we going?

rain

spring: my faultless friends have spiders in the corners of their model home.

pause

on the way to church, spring is a roadkill deer, and all of these questions

translation

some haiku purists think spring is in the eyes, while some prefer the tongue

stuck

the breeze is not quite strong enough to tip the leaf into the swift creek.