just like basho
i spend my time
wandering through
flowering day light
with a crying cicada
inside my heart.
we can’t help sighing
as the seasons change,
& trying to imagine
what it’s like to be a
poet.
just like basho
i spend my time
wandering through
flowering day light
with a crying cicada
inside my heart.
we can’t help sighing
as the seasons change,
& trying to imagine
what it’s like to be a
poet.