April’s first mishap—

I stumble on a pebble

near the garden gate.

Japanese garden—

a child drops one smooth pebble

into the koi pond.

Pebble in my shoe—

how can such a tiny thing

keep me from the way?

Pebble

First day of the month—

I place a small white pebble

on my father’s grave.

Step

a tiny pebble—

Buddha lodging in my shoe

step by painful step

my father’s chess set

with both black bishops missing—

pebbles take their place

in a single look

taking in the mountain range

and one white pebble

the jasmine seller

dancing homeward at day’s end—

pebble in her shoe

grandfather’s chess set

with a missing black bishop—

pebble takes its place

a thorn, a feather,

a pebble in my pocket—

keepsakes from my quest