Last day of the month—
 
rain washes the grit and grime
 
from my neighbor’s roof.

 
 
 

The year that vanished
 
only a few weeks ago—
 
how close it still seems!

 
 
 

First weeks of the year—
 
I plan another journey,
 
knowing plans are vain.

 
 
 

Snow fell at midnight.
 
The waxing moon was hidden.
 
You forgot my name.

 
 
 

After winter rain
 
a brand-new penny glistens
 
on a sun-drenched street.

 
 
 

If you remember
 
the pathway out of winter,
 
show me—I’ll take it!

 
 
 

Richard Wright’s haiku
 
warm me better than a fire
 
on an icy day.

 
 
 

This winter morning
 
is just like any other—
 
tea for you and me.

 
 
 

While the north wind blows,
 
an old man without a coat
 
shuffles through the park.

 
 
 

Little brown sparrow,
 
I know only winter songs—
 
teach me something warm.