Sketchbook notes from the drifting spaces

Autumnal haiku poems

Autumn-Twilight

The hills cast shadows,
And pampas grass is swaying
In sunlit meadows.

Buson



Autumn Moon

Is there anyone
Who will not take up his brush
With this moon tonight!

Onitsura


Urban steam skyscrapers



three noisy mallards
zipping
through a shattered zone



strewn detritus of
torn ochre and golden pinks
mashed into shards,
blown hither and thither

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