Profile_bird

Hey there! ghost_of_basho is using Twitter.

Twitter is a free service that lets you keep in touch with people through the exchange of quick, frequent answers to one simple question: What's happening? Join today to start receiving ghost_of_basho's tweets.

Already using Twitter
from your phone? Click here.

ghost_of_basho

  1. winter's first rough squall | strips fall's last brown leaves from boughs | creaking in snow gusts
  2. after the cold rain | the crystal bay vanishes | into a brown haze
  3. old lies scatter like | the brown broken leaves, waiting | for a snow blanket
  4. two hawks spiral up | banking in the rising heat | as the clouds scatter
  5. the blustery rain | tiles the road randomly | with the leaves of fall
  6. fog creeps over hills | like relentless time into | creaking, aging knees
  7. the midnight fog flares | distant lightning awakening | summer thunder rolls
  8. the vulture's shadow | crosses the fire road as I | breath hot dust of wheels
  9. pod of cargo ships | anchored, yet floating on dawn | sky rising astern
  10. in the fountain bowl | ravens splash, a flapping dance| while the cars circle
  11. grey trunks drip slowly | from light clouds of dark green leaves | anchoring the grove
  12. gnarled oak at noon | hot sage wafts across cut fields | feet kick dusty clouds
  13. terns fishing, whitecaps | sand piles against dry seaweed | grass huddles on dunes
  14. grey skies touch grey waters | pelicans beat wings and rise | gliding echelon
  15. brown grass and slack air | taste of dust and dark berries | gentle shade, fierce sun
  16. smell of concrete dust | sun weathered face with hard hat | and flag. all clear, go
  17. the last moon of spring | sits round on the fat warm hills | grass smell in still air
  18. grey telephone poles | staggering like drunken masts | sail the street away
  19. the marine layer | drips from a single redwood | green circle in brown
  20. no cat feet for this | fog, just a hammering west | wind, swaying the trees