2025年10月29日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 694th. week

By the end of our escape, arriving at the geographical pole, on earl afternoon.
Clutching her to my breast, her strait across bangs, a wound front.
Do not to laugh all I could it is, the toneri a junior clerk with his tail, lush and bushy fur is.
Standing on stirrups, with swaying Naomi, trains for horse ridding.
A submarine, turning over, and dry in the sun.

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