A Basho Cento by ymmiJ

Feb 2021

waking at night
only my dreams wander
how cold it is!

From these three Basho Poems:

waking at night;
the lamp is low,
the oil freezing

sick on my journey
only my dreams wander
these desolate moors

the leeks
newly washed white-
how cold it is!

Written by

ymmiJ M/Anchorage

(M/Anchorage)

145

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