127

the west wind
is the music
coming from
the string
under a spell

126

Little bird
flew off
from the old branch
in the midst of
midsummer dream

125

without a destination
this ship has sailed out
from the port of call
catching the current
with wings

124

the crushing waves
catch
prisms of the current
bringing
brand-new color to the shore

123

slowly an surely
the dampness of the air
decayed a pen
the storyteller lost
her voice

chicolate flavored song: 122

chicolate flavored song: 122

122

in the lay of Sun
elusiveness
comes alive
as a canvas
with no lines