Clear across the field
I see some overripe plums
falling from the tree.
Impossible
under cherry trees
how impossible it seems
to choose the wrong way
Bowl
The bowl of water
does not sense its own wetness,
nor the twig its leaf.
Potatoes
On mere potatoes
they are feasting this evening
in Van Gogh’s painting.
Blooming
the peach tree blooming
only in my memory—
a fruitful silence
