Tuesday, October 6, 2009

almost-haiku

sound consumes the year.

i live alone in the forest with 2 tigers.

midst rain song an' rain call



haibun


in a night's moment i turn, and behind my trail, Krishna's footprints,
distinguished by signs, barley, autumn lotus, the goad, a fallen hand
marked by a discus. i wash the dust off the the ikon's hair, stay amazed
of the chariot of blinking star-eyes


repeat the god

a smile traceable as
the bracelets slacken

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