2023年09月27日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 615th. week

The swamp in red, shrouded in the mist, it's a perfect day for a crocodile.
Looking behind to, by his antlers of the demon, aeolian noises I hear.
About this time last year, with their father of twins, the summer I had spent. Or, about this time last year, with their bazooms of twins, the summer I had spent.
Three days have already past, in the wind say with no mercy, red spider lilies.
Before crashing, a dwarf held, the control stick of.

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