Tag Archives: Winter
Slow kind of winter, Spring, mainlining taproot juice, hastens light to mold. Advertisements
Like ice cream, this dream of life, wintering its soul– How lovely the melt! (Artwork by Hiroshige)
In winter’s maw, snow, flutters of feathery pecks– kisses, melt to rash. (Artwork by Hiroshige)
Long ago, slowly crossing the bridge in winter– Footprints in fresh snow. (Artwork by Hiroshige)
No sitters to tend, solvent to its own winter, if these floors could talk. (Installation by Izumi Yokoyama)
It is, at winter’s finite edge, that we glean the bent, palsied bloom, somatic in its turn toward Spring’s inevitable host.
Thick blossoms of snow caking the comb-teeth of pines– To rivet, chastely, sublime.
Quite simply, the curlicue flake of snow kisses the child’s lashes, and winter’s slow hidden pink marvels in its own tender praises.
It is strange, and indelibly touching, how a sacrifice to the winter gods and summertime sadness co-exist as one and the same thing.