Art is a journey into the most unknown thing of all - oneself. Nobody knows his own frontiers… I don’t think I’d ever want to take a road if I knew where it led.

Louis Kahan
    the plum tree too
is soon snowed in…
winter seclusion
    in winter wind
no one to talk to…
evening
    autumn rain—
not a soul in sight
the back gate
    even the suckling
kitten watches…
falling leaf
    slapping the big
chrysanthemum’s face…
falling leaf
    warm rain falling
splish-splash…
autumn gale
“Mute le corde.La musica sapevaquello che sento.” Borges auxiliofaux: Beacon Miami, Florida ©2012Auxiliofaux
    from one side
wind from the hills…
plovers singing
    moonflowers—
one by one the wind
rustles them
    butterflies never
tire of them…
roses of Sharon
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