the rice fields
are at their most verdant;
scent of rain.
Green Fields [Haiku]
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the rice fields
are at their most verdant;
scent of rain.
a fish market, broken down for the day -- yet, its scent still grows.
the acrid smell of burnt gun-smoke dulls in the mind, but not in the air the brain tires of smelling it, and so it fades, but it has nowhere to go -- not in this violent place of dead & heavy air