Amid the crowd carried along by the blowing wind,
a handful of breath offered in my palm.
In reply to Shiraishi Masako’s
The silence of the flow of breathing people, a wind blowing through the crowd
On a winter evening, people turn up their collars and hurry home. In the crowd, I suddenly stood alone as if resisting the current and looked up at the sky. There were so many people, yet I was all alone.
In the current of the crowd,
I stand alone,
a winter twilight.
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