Spring

on my neighbor’s fence

two blackbirds try a new song

celebrating spring

Hunt

winter afternoon—

in the old stone Buddha’s lap

blackbird hunts for seeds

if not for blackbird

the wind would forget its way

over the mountain

blackbird and river—

their constant conversation

in different tongues

How much do you know,

blackbird on my garden gate,

of the storm to come?

Blackbird stops to stare—

every branch of the plum tree

is covered with snow!

in the blackbird’s beak

one drop of river water

for my gingko tree