CLIPS

blooming next by next in 2 days…

Mountains had been painted in pink here and there…

had started to bloom…

the perfect dandelion fluff…

ready to fly…

the huge old Shidarezakura in full blossom…

such a strong life on the wall…

successively after sakura…

Those dandelions are as thick as thieves…

such small but indefatigable lives…

Sakura and dandelions were unwilling to say their good-byes…

sakura fallen pedals dashing down the slope…

the fallen red star…

the axis of sakura…

The park was covered with fallen pinkish pedals, the last remnant of passing sakura…

the posthumous work of the great painter sakura…

another line of the road…

the footmarks of sakura…

sakura would be leaving soon from sakura hills…

the shower of sakura pedals…

most of sakura pedals had already fallen down…

the momentary collaborated artwork by sakura and wind…

vanishing sakura fallen pedals by the strong wind…

another sakura…

preparations of a next trip to the north…

the welcome guest every year…

Sakura days had been passing through the local small town…

the sakura ground…

the tennis courts at the foot of sakura hills…

the sakura roof also here over the road…

the sakura roof here too over the cycling road…

the sakura roof over the road…

Sakura blooms next by next…

Sakura had started to bloom…

in the windless misty rain…

in a halo…

of the huge tree Hinoki…

in those days…

I had never seen before…

the close good friends…

in the morning sunlight…

by the window…

old simple design I had never seen before…

the light of day to the window…

giving a great peace of mind…

the foundation of the broken bench…

after several decades…

A kid had forgotten on the garden table…

weeping over the past…

under dancing trees blown by the strong wind…

the old days had clouded my memory…

the rainy scenery from the tram window…

by the frozen lake…

the madder-colored sky…

dancing on the surface…

in the cup…

playing hide-and-seek…

still so beautiful…

at the center of the parking…

which may be the steepest in Tokyo…

beside the construction site…

quick drawing…

no passengers even in the afternoon…

singing aloud in chorus…

still on building…

outside of the window…

The umpire had forgotten…

The clouds had been quickly changing…

New drawings had come up next by next…

rails just like in the garden..

Who did so?…

where is at the very top of the twin steep slopes…

in the pot…

which the room light had arranged…

the forgotten thing of a kid…

rusted nails and wires…

They had changed into aqua drops at once…

It brought back fond memories in my childhood…

the momentary special scene at the usual station…

in the melting snow…

in the snow…

the condensation in the early morning…

It started snowing again…

no game for a few days…

the small path in the snow…

from the window of my new place…

the electric wires of the railway…

in the evening sunlight…

dead hydrangea…

but still lovely…

drawn by the river streaming…

such a small rusted wire, but still beautiful artwork…

every nights in my room…

the cranes slowly dancing waltz…

out of order anymore…

for giving the passing winter a send-off…

the momentary evening sunlight artwork…

my yoga mat…

in the huge sky stage…

The huge rock is obstructing the path…

the Airplane in the deep clouds…

various artworks here and there…

All leaves had already fallen down…

I had never known up to this morning…