Yongle VoynichSep 11 min readLitter of Three HaikusI tend littered trees,And the critters creeping throughHands and plastic leaves.Wade through winding mazeBoxed in with thorn-bush piercingMy soft, gardened skin.Scream in gilded cage:Nightingale without measure,Of each passing day.
I tend littered trees,And the critters creeping throughHands and plastic leaves.Wade through winding mazeBoxed in with thorn-bush piercingMy soft, gardened skin.Scream in gilded cage:Nightingale without measure,Of each passing day.
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