Forgetting

Last day of the month—

my mother keeps forgetting

her name and address.

Wall

Pelting autumn rain—

on the memorial wall

the names grow fainter.

First rain of autumn—

a parched and thirsty frog pond

drinks up every drop.

Deepening autumn—

on my way to the teahouse

rain begins to fall.

Autumn afternoon—

the helicopter’s chopping

interrupts my nap.

No one remembers

the shape of the sound before

it slipped from the bell.

Unexpected rain—

a post-Thanksgiving shopper

darts into a store.

A full moon rising

higher than the temple roof

lights up every street.

Into my cracked cup

I pour fresh tea each morning

and again at dusk.

Three Suchovy geese

paddle round and round the pond—

autumn afternoon.