The Price of Gold - Haiku
On a withered branch
a crow has alighted—
nightfall in autumn.
O daring snail
climb Mount Everest
but slowly, slowly
A blank canvas
for thoughts to grow
a world within
Green moss on the stone,
a silent, soft, quiet growth,
sunlight finds a crack
The sun pours herself
in the sea, and half the world
overflow with light
Beauty rises high
not to be seen, but hope that
no other is seen
I hate hypocrites
know-it-alls, and worst of all
people who complain
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