Leave the gate open

as you set off down the road—

the wind will close it.

Unlocking the gate,

I head for the open road—

my feet are my map.

Deepening autumn—

how long the road before me

and how short behind!

Third weekend of spring—

my backyard plum keeps blooming,

though I’m on the road.

Road

Deepening winter—

I take the road less taken

and soon lose my way.

Eighth day of the year—

a road in the wilderness

opens before me.

Travel

On the road again—

will my wife think to water

my morning glories?

On the long road home

you are my sole companion,

little brown sparrow.

country road at noon—

the dust from a passing car

settles on my skin

first rain of April—

the road of separation

between ice and fire