These Senryu are to be read separately, not as a story.
As the sun set the wind did blow its gusting presence disturbed my… And as the trees bent it took its tole
Finius Frog Flew Feverishly Forw… Following Fellow Flier Fickelste… Formations Fashioned From Flying… Furnish Flux, Frequently Facilit… First Fashioned For Fun, Fulker…
A Waltz In The Air In the mist she dances in the garden He sees her in the fog, now and then.
As the Blue-Moon rises In the monolithic sky It casts reflected light On the dead and the lame. The shadows, thus created,
Rising above the hillsides Was the moon that is know as Blue And the Raven’s shadow spread Across gravestones, two by two. The graveyard trees had nary a lea…
“Over the river and through the wo… To Grandmother’s house we go. ...… But it’s not the wolf I worry abo… It’s those Blank-ah-de-Blank Bug… Those with wings and those with le…
What the mind conceives From books and dreams And visions conjured deep in cloud Shall never fetch the love of fait… 'though love shall speak of faith…
I am put upon and drained Up in the Willow’s highest branch… So, I linger in the shadows of it… However I shall never render blame
She insisted on Caramel And Peanut-butter pastries, Either by the box, or by the pound… And a Walnut, pistachio, lemon ca… With a very thick malt
She said that she had walked among… But I see no flowers in the field… She said that she had heard a Rob… But I’ve never see a Robin on thi… She said that Aunty Lou had come…
He stands on the edge of windy cli… Where images and shadows seldom bl… He closed his eyes to sees beyond; Beyond the whispers and the wind. Then he stretched himself, as if t…
All the witches stoop and stir their smoking cauldrons While Warlocks choose the things that go within And the Wizards hide
There’s a sign on the bartender’s… “This rule applies to us all! We don’t throw drunks in the stree… That’s unsightly and wouldn’t be n… We just leave them right where the…
“The Sleeper” has docked Near the schooner, “Lanore,” As “The Raven” steams north Past the fog laden shore. “The Bells” on the buoys
In the days of Never-After Came a discontented flurry A mix of thought that lost a lot When given to the worry. Blame was cast upon the wind