From its pine-top perch
 
an owl booms out a warning—
 
spring melancholy.

 
 

Spring melancholy—
 
every melon seed I sow
 
fails to germinate.

 
 
 

A drunk woman sprawls
 
in a moonlit alleyway—
 
spring melancholy.

 
 
 

In the nursing home
 
I clutch my father’s thin hand—
 
spring melancholy.

 
 
 

Through this morning’s fog
 
I cannot see my plum tree—
 
spring melancholy.

 
 
 

spring melancholy—
 
inevitable, it seems,
 
when plum blossoms fall

 
 
 

The pedophile priest
 
chooses a new altar boy—
 
spring melancholy.

 
 
 

Unexpected rain
 
drenches kids en route to school—
 
spring melancholy.

 
 
 

After his house burns,
 
an old man sifts the ashes—
 
spring melancholy.

 
 
 

my father’s dying
 
more than a decade ago—
 
spring melancholy