live, post-contemporary music culled from the pleasure of ruins.
Monday, July 28, 2014
Old plum tree bent and gnarled
All at once opens one blossom, two blossoms,
three, four, five blossoms, uncountable blossoms..
Whirling, changing into wind, wild rain,
falling, snow, all over the earth.
Share to Twitter
Share to Facebook
Share to Pinterest
Post a Comment
Post Comments (Atom)