If you would write a letter to the moon

There have always been the two of you. The light inside

is the shy friend who tries on the cape of sky. The other
is the mirror. Every word spoken between you is a loop.

Strange land

In this state, the seasons are loosely translated.

Just so

A particular morning. 

Like the first morning, plus a house. 

Oh morning, you have never failed 

the world. And today 

you are looked at from a window.

Epiphany

Mist, wind, and rain have travelled to these hills from distant places. The line that separates the heavens from the earth has almost disappeared. The firs keep pointing to the sky though there is no star.