At The Shrine Room Gate
S
Sheena Blackhall
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Altın Yaprak
A khaki spotted fly
Walks over the word observe
Etched into the wood of a Buddhist panel
Eight prayer flags, white, green, red
Tug on their moorings
Torn between a wooden fence and a birch tree
Crane fly flows off the path
Over the iris pool
A white moth zig zags
Through the gate’s dark slats
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş