A wonderful haibun.
My home is wherever I am. And where are you? Behind whose eyelids do you sleep? And do you still care in your sleeves a scent of the warm bread shared once, in a past life, perhaps? Are your soles tired of the road, joints painful of chains and your skin cracked of the wind that whips in the back? Does the sky reflect in your eyes while you smile? Home … Go on, it must be here… Somewhere… How do I know? How do you not know?
traces of jets
across the morning sky
Indian summer
Talking heads again…
Linked to Carpe Diem #1283 On Our Way Home
