October sorrow—
 
watching the full hunter’s moon
 
slip into darkness.

 
 

Little brown sparrow,
 
sing a cactus-blossom song
 
to ease my sorrow!

 
 

Little brown sparrow,
 
do you know a summer song
 
to ease my sorrow?

 
 

On a narrow road
 
a few weeks after Easter
 
sorrow calls my name.

 
 
 

October sorrow—
 
watching the hunter’s moon slip
 
back into darkness

 
 
 

First autumn sorrow—
 
an email from an old friend
 
says his wife just died.

 
 
 

Door of old sorrows—
 
at dusk I stand before it,
 
my key in the lock.

 
 
 

First sorrow of spring—
 
my mother’s teacup shatters
 
on the kitchen floor.

 
 
 

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

 
 
 

How do I begin
 
to tell you of my sorrow,
 
little brown sparrow?