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
    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
autumn gale
    from one side
wind from the hills…
plovers singing
one by one the wind
rustles them
    butterflies never
tire of them…
roses of Sharon
    in autumn frost
lushly blooming again
roses of Sharon
    thin wall—
with the moonlight comes
the cold