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And off one goes, over the mesa's edge with one's bag of tricks slung over one's shoulder; all wrapped in a hanky and knotted on a stick. Ginko! Out into the living wind's furyu of zoka as makoto in kokoro. Brother North Wind's dog's been cold snappin' here in rainy England. Last night a post-natal Harvest Moon was bright - so too the myriad little lights. Many lively wild haiku, with gleaming eyes and wet noses, were out and about in the chill darkling's twinkler panarama. This ku hopped out of a mini-scrump, with a demure bow, courtesy (curtsey) of Avalon at large. . . .
taste into silence. . . .
journey the windfall's invisible
core—
jp
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23-10-11
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