After Thanksgiving,
 
a freshly raked Zen garden
 
hosts a dead oak leaf.

 
 
 

After Thanksgiving,
 
in a long, narrow garden,
 
one white rose still blooms.

 
 

Thanksgiving dinner–
 
the circle’s smaller this year,
 
our talk is thinner.

 
 
 

With each song you sing
 
you teach me thanksgiving’s way,
 
little brown sparrow.

 
 
 

Gloomy autumn day—
 
thanksgiving sticks in my throat
 
like a thorn or stone.

 
 
 

After Thanksgiving
 
the willow lightens its load,
 
shrugging off more leaves.

 
 
 

Walking through the woods
 
on Thanksgiving afternoon—
 
this is feast enough.

Candle

 
 
 

after last night’s rain
 
a candle of thanksgiving
 
at the wayside shrine

Shopper

 
 
 

Unexpected rain—
 
a post-Thanksgiving shopper
 
darts into a store.

Flight

 

Thanksgiving morning—

watching the geese gather strength

for their long flight south