Burning wood

Quiet nights And the midnight stray dogs that bark The scent of burning wood Clay pots and runny rice On a stove made of fine earth I’m wearing my favorite cotton dress And peeking out the open window railings While the cool breeze touches my face Unlocking my heart There’s the lingering scent from grandma’s

Lucky birds

Another year, and the birds are still riding the river on a floating sheet of ice. How awesome it must be to be them; enjoying the fresh outdoors while hanging out as a group with fellow flocks-mates. Just travelling on a mission together, sitting and checking out the cool scenery together, flying about and getting

Sky Milk