Penny

even a penny

seems to be a great fortune

lit by the full moon

Hiding

hiding the full moon

in his basket of apples—

the wily farmer

summer full-moon night—

reeds trembling in the millpond

startle Basho’s frog

summer’s first full moon—

among the plum tree’s branches

finding a new home

by the full moon’s light

reading a Buson haiku—

carp circle the pond

laying down shadows

near my grandmother’s gravestone—

first full moon of spring

under a full moon

farmers sowing fields with frost—

crystalline harvest

plastic water bowl

cradling autumn’s first full moon—

old dog drinks his fill

overturned rowboat

waiting for the next tide out—

autumn’s first full moon

October’s full moon

leaking from the scarecrow’s sleeve

last year’s barley straw