Path

On the stony path

how carefully I travel

with my walking stick.

Shadow

Autumn afternoon—

on the path to the teahouse

I lose my shadow.

On a stony path

I fall asleep, but no one

comes to comfort me.

On the cinder path

leading to the temple gate

a lone blackbird sings.

deepening autumn—

sunlight the color of tea

stains the garden path

autumn afternoon—

walking with my old spaniel

on a well-worn path

a path before me—

only the dust and stones know

how many more miles