2016年07月20日

Haiku : Five Verses In Seven Days, the 221st. week

A basket-hilted sword, to raise over her head, a shadow of my mother I see.
On the end of the rainy season, to expose them to the sun, their belly button lint.
Thomasson it's looked like, by hitting, a quijada sounds.
Because of having piles, in the sweat of my brow, tea making.
Suffering a heartbreak so, to go through such a trying experience, like taste of a herbal medicine.

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