miyako73
07-26-2019, 07:09 PM
On the roadside, I ask the wind
if I am a poet. A ripe persimmon falls;
a woman picks it up, blows off
the dirt; a child smiles. I choke up
as it murmurs: now write me a tanka.
https://www.instagram.com/poetry.koyamibelzai/
if I am a poet. A ripe persimmon falls;
a woman picks it up, blows off
the dirt; a child smiles. I choke up
as it murmurs: now write me a tanka.
https://www.instagram.com/poetry.koyamibelzai/