Heat wave in July—
 
I remember cooler days
 
and white plum blossoms.

 
 
 

Three days in a row
 
wind shakes my apricot tree,
 
but the fruit holds on.

 
 
 

How many more days
 
have been allotted to you,
 
yellow butterfly?

 
 
 

Last days of autumn—
 
some leaves cling to their greenness,
 
despite the hard frosts.

 
 
 

Last days of autumn—
 
the fence around my garden
 
keeps shedding its paint.

 
 
 

Last days of winter—
 
fog blanketing the backyard
 
hides my leafless plum.

 
 
 

On the evening news
 
reports of robins appear—
 
eighteen days till spring.

Shutdown

 
 
 

Last days of the year—
 
despite Washington’s shutdown,
 
the sun keeps shining.

Leaves

 
 
 

Early December—
 
leaves still cling to my plum tree,
 
despite days of rain.

Waiting

 
 
 

summer’s waning days—
 
still waiting for a rainstorm
 
to un-parch the earth