In the
melting snow,
silent war
on the hilltop:
green
sprouts are poking.
In a cloudless sky,
all at once, the sun went out!
No...a soaring kite.
A lamp hung
in
perennial
sadness—
the moon in
the willow.
There! In the dead leaves,
one slowly stirs and flutters!
...moth awakening.
Empty beach,
black clouds‑‑
and the gull
struggles to fly
in its
suspension.
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