First Snow

 
 
 

waiting for first snow
 
the last day of November—
 
an empty duck pond

Plum Blossoms

 
 
 

seven plum blossoms
 
singing to me at daybreak
 
in a fragrant tongue

Empty Bowl

 
 
 

a full beaver moon
 
rising over the mountains—
 
my bowl is empty

Sadness

 
 
 

her sadness
 
a steady rainfall
 
through the night

Love

 
 
 

She thought it was love—
 
when the rose petals faded,
 
she thought otherwise.

Rain

 
 
 

rhythm in her soul—
 
rain tattooing on the roof
 
2:15 a.m.

Birches

 
 
 

three birches
 
their silvery throats
 
quivering