a haiku, in too many words
Mar. 31st, 2012 09:00 amGrey, dreary morning. It should be a grey, dreary morning, at least - the rain drizzles, the sky hangs low and cast-over. And yet, I walk into the kitchen, and the irises I bought yesterday have begun to bloom, narrow purple petals uncurling against their green braces, and beyond them, overnight, the white bundled blossoms of the dogwood outside my window have opened, creamy white against brown-black branches.
I feel as though I've walked into a Japanese woodcut.
I feel as though I've walked into a Japanese woodcut.