Small Poetics

A few pieces composed on a whim yesterday (while drinking some Chinese tea made from the leaves of some plant related to the cucumber I can't recall the name now) I feel like posting:

composing a poem on a whim
is as difficult as
summoning a breeze
to caress the leaves
and sooth the mind into
poetic inspiration

.

wisps of steam
vanishing as they appear
from the immortal tea

.

bursts of poetic feelings
as brief as ice
on scorched stone

.

yellow sky
violet tile roof
green leaf breeze