117.
Many raindrops against glass,
Sometimes it takes longer
To disprove what is false.
118.
Frazzled willow,
Stripped winter,
I will break through the barriers of myself.
119.
This same stormy gale
A thousand years in the making,
Why should it be any different now.
120.
Rosemary on the window sill
Strains to be cooked,
Itch’s source demands to be scratched.
Seven Hundred Jisei 