an empty alms bowl—
pilgrim stammering her thanks
for last night’s supper
Linger
On an empty road
the prayers of pilgrims past
linger forever.
Boats
blue cormorant boats
painting the bay this morning—
lunatic beauty
Panting
long way home—
even the thunder
is panting
Scribbling
poems on the way
pilgrim scribbling in his book
even crows keep still