Golden wave:
Noise muted.
Hands harvest blows.
Cicadas sing
Cedars on the horizon:
Voiceless words.
Birds declaim
The feeling of wet
Earth in wet air.
Gray clouds ragged
By a thousand lightnings
Released in a look.
Running water:
I Run with the stream.
Which mouth awaits?
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 5:19 PM UTC
Golden wave:
Noise muted.
Hands harvest blows.
Cicadas sing
Cedars on the horizon:
Voiceless words.
Birds declaim
The feeling of wet
Earth in wet air.
Gray clouds ragged
By a thousand lightnings
Released in a look.
Running water:
I Run with the stream.
Which mouth awaits?
