HaikuA Poem by Zugzwang
Practitioners
of the way dance unmoving; a flute with no holes. Crippled Cold Mountain didn't care a fig for rules; He spoke with the clouds. A stick of incense, sandalwood, burns to the end. Sitting quietly The afternoon warmth gave way to evening stillness. Diamonds in the sky. © 2017 ZugzwangReviews
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5 Reviews Added on July 1, 2017 Last Updated on July 1, 2017 Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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