Only the mist and the sea and our bridges

It is a rare glimpse, a reflection across worlds. In these pages we see photos and haiku from Malmö and Macao. The pictures present fleeting impressions, moments in time. And so do the haiku! The six languages of the book bear meanings like passenger pigeons across continents. The haiku is, in and of itself, almost a photographic form of poetry – with its three short surprising lines, with ideas and images seemingly at odds, and with the ‘expected unexpec