梅雨時 Tsuyudoki Rainy Season In the dark month before summer on the oldest bridge in Japan and under me so swift these fish swim on our hooks as soldiers might upon their swords. What if these lines should fall into the river then? What sort of poem would the cold stones finish? KK next>
this is the speech of my hands poetry by Christopher (Kit) Kelen and Steven Schroeder | images by Kit Kelen