While painting the fence,
 
I hear some children laughing
 
on the other side.

 
 
 

I’ll scrape the old paint
 
from the house another day—
 
now sunflowers bloom.

 
 
 

While I paint the fence,
 
a crow in the maple tree
 
keeps his eye on me.

 
 
 

In sorrow’s cottage
 
a chair painted with my name
 
waits to welcome me.

 
 
 

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

Paint

 
 
 

Summertime at last!
 
On the temple gate a monk
 
splashes fresh red paint.

Chair

 
 
 

An old wooden chair,
 
needing a new coat of paint,
 
wears cobwebs instead.

Coaxing

 
 
 

artist in the park
 
morning after summer rain
 
coaxing tales from paint