She burst into my room, “I want to taste this summer petal by petal as if it were my last.” I cannot remember the color of her dress as she stood with sunlight pouring through the window and looked as if she were on fire.
this Easter Sunday...
between her dates
cut into black stone
Published in Atlas Poetica, 13,Autumn 2012
Butterfly Dream: Smoke Moon Haiku by Kishor Matte - *English Original* the flag flying smoke moon at half -mast Kishor Matte *Chinese Translation (Traditional)* 國旗 在 半桅杆 煙霧彌漫之月 之處 飄揚 *Chinese Tra...