I FOUND THE GEESE

washing themself thoroughly and spreading their wings from time to time. It was to the pond I went in the morning, in such dark nearly wet weather.
I had heard storms around he block tonight and the streets are now full of fallen leaves.
Yesterday evening I have read one chapter of the little book Mischa had given to Piet Hein some time ago. It is called One green field by Edward Thomas (1878-1917) and the chapter is The Brook. I found it full of english words I am not familiar with but which I encounter in the blip journals a lot. It tells of the birds, the flowers, everthing that you find in the fields and forests. The style is overwhelming, one flow that goes on and on, decsribing what you see if one follows the brook from source to river. Only four pages but enough for one evening.

My haiku:

Their eyes round open
Their feathers all washed clean
The storm shall soon now come

And the proverb:

All his geese are swans.