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
    night mist—
the horse remembers
the bridge’s hole
    feeling for the stone bridge
with my feet…
a cold night
    a man emerges
from the roof of a boat…
a winter storm
    Cover my head
Or my feet?
The winter quilt.
    winter moon
remains like
a ballet shoe
    through a hole
you can see the ocean…
billowing clouds
    thanks to the wind
they are precious…
billowing clouds
    I swear
I see a demon…
billowing clouds
    drinking tea alone—
every day the butterfly
stops by
"She walks in beauty/Like the night. Maybe that’s why/Drivers can’t see her.”

New York’s Department of Transportation tries a different approach to pedestrian safety… by employing haiku art.



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