This is a training exercise for the stuff that I will no doubt talk to myself loudly about in the sreet once my marbles go completely, because I absolutely intend to grow old disgracefully. In the unlikely event that this should be read by someone who actually knows the flesh and blood me, please note that all opinions, mad ideas and general thought-streams are mine alone and have no bearing on those of my employers, workmates or relatives [ blood or otherwise ]
Monday, December 04, 2006
evening haiku
Night; and once again,
the while I wait for you, cold wind
turns into rain.
Shiki, Masaoka. (1867-1902).
A dead chrysanthemum
and yet - isn't there still something
remaining in it?
Takahama, Kyoshi
Sunday, December 03, 2006
Christmas
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