Late-summer breakfast—
 
black coffee leaks from a crack
 
in my old white cup.

 
 
 

Winter solitude—
 
tea leaks slowly from the crack
 
in my old white cup.

 
 
 

A crack in the fence—
 
I can see the grass has died
 
in my neighbor’s yard.

 
 
 

Last day of winter—
 
already dandelions
 
bloom in sidewalk cracks.

 
 
 

A crack in the glass
 
lets the lantern’s light leak out—
 
my journey lengthens.

 
 
 

Crack in the pavement—
 
one golden dandelion
 
lights my homeward way.

Jeer

 
 
 

first sound of the year—
 
a crow cracks open its beak
 
to jeer passersby

Bench

 
 
 

Winter afternoon—
 
shadows leak from every crack
 
of a weathered bench.

Leak

 
 
 

a crack in my cup
 
freshly brewed tea leaking out—
 
solace in wrensong

Breakfast

 
 
 

breakfasting alone
 
crack in my jade-colored cup
 
with tea leaking out