next to my chair
I quake
...
old chinaberry tree
splits in the wind
destiny
...
cold winds
even the blossoms
are fools
...
prayer flags
the wind horse
takes flight
...
who cares?
not the mountain
awash in dust
...
the sound of the wind
makes me wish
...for deafness!
...
I sit
watching trees
do yoga
...
exercising haiku skills
when all else blows
little letters scatter
across the page