rhetoric is a haiku in high relief

a noonday eclipse
no matter what happens
we meet, bistre junction

no matter rain or moonshine
we exchange stories—

no matter, the path will stay
the road till then

between thumb and finger
a blessing—relic from the chapel

its shrine shimmering
vast blanket light

then night again and an owl

hope in the new days
we approach the green vista
ceil words in backpack