April 19th 2016

····of a dirt road under hemlock—my lover’s
I’ve had my doubts haiku—whether they can have any lasting value in a language apart from the culture and tradition that created them. But that’s increasingly mattered less to me. I begin to treat the poems less as individual works and more as a single work written over three hundred and sixty five days—a year that will soon enough be long behind me.
165 April 19th 2016 | bottlecap

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