Wisteria I

My Ink Brush Talks

Cool summer air clears my room, the high night sky

darkens and I leave the days’ storm at my feet.

My ink brush quick, light draws the words out

oh, fireflies your heart burns bright

I will follow your evening light all the way up the mountain.

only today’s snow on the branches,

this fleeting, cold wet

on my face,

here, I am

alive, alive, alive !!!

– h.

happy new year