Honeycomb – Flash Fiction/Haibun
I knock on our house door, but it's not my mother who opens. Seeing my doubt in front of the door, the wind smacks it against the wall. Something that looks like a being, a steamy silhouette wearing a long flowery printed dress swirls around, engulfs me, while its imprints fly all over the room. What a fresh, plum blossom scent! Suddenly, the wind calms down, the clouds wash out, and the ghost is gone, but all these white petals left on the floor are a sign that I'm not the only one coming home now and then...
honeycomb –
a butterfly alights
on the sweet knife
Five Photo Poems – (words only)
air raid -
hot bread breeze
from across the border
mother’s ground -
the wind wears
a crown of chrysanthemums
hay bed -
La vie en rose
on the radio
shed snake skin
on the path -
face lifting day
WWW blocked -
I walk along the path
of other creatures
Lavana Kray
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