Summertime
Daisy blossums sway
while the North wind blows -
Reaper's scythe cuts
Donkeys
A herd of donkeys
Graze among meadow grass-
thistle blooms in stones
Apathy
I do not know the answer.
The questions rest upon my lips,
never asked.
Fear petrifies me.
Anger stalls me.
All is lost
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