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Off-Beat Haiku and Tanka IV

      blossoms fall
      from the trees into
      my hands,

      they flutter there; so
      many butterflies.

            here they come!
            the first bean sprouts of
            the new year.
                where to now?
                you’re running out of
                wall, spider.
      only a
      bird stood guard against
      incoming tide.
            a farmer
            comes to sow a field
            not his own.

            why should I fulfill
            only his dream?

                by the elm
                under the moonlight,
                a cricket sings.
              copyright © 2014 by mari t
    (mari t. makes no endorsement of any advertisement appearing on this site.)

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