drab plow assembles
ephemeral group of girls
crisp, dripping water.
the wave seeps through monk
cup of tea like a roommate,
void buries a god
If syllables count,
shouldn't we really be writing
in Japanese?
Reload this page for more haiku, or paint the mental picture
for thirty (30) minutes.
From here, you could zip over to
my main gweep page.
Cheers,
Joe Provo