Wednesday, May 23, 2018


Hoarse riding with her voice
Janis Joplin

Spring rain
Has come at last
A cigarette’s light

Fog is lifting
The morning stage is set
For the warbler

During spring
The silly moon hides behind
Plum blossoms

The wandering clouds
Leaving rain as messenger
Unsurpassed sorrow

You may call it spring
But a cold wind sweeps the streets
Only ivy laughs

Morning dewdrops
Are the tears of the night
We couldn't hold


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