On long winter nights
 
more than once I’ve been surprised
 
by sunflower dreams.

 
 
 

If I had strong wings
 
like the crow or red-tailed hawk,
 
I’d flee from winter.

 
 
 

Sakura blossoms,
 
how many weeks of winter
 
still keep you from me?

 
 
 

I don’t ask for much—
 
a warm bed on wintry nights,
 
and breakfast coffee.

 
 
 

simple winter joys—
 
the fragrance of fresh coffee
 
and a piece of toast

 
 
 

Ruthless winter wind,
 
you keep grinding the mountains
 
into mounds of dust.

 
 
 

My desires are few:
 
some sun, some coffee, and you
 
on a winter’s day.

 
 
 

Bitter winter wind—
 
cherry-blossom memories
 
and tea keep me warm.

 
 
 

The barista hums
 
while brewing my espresso—
 
winter-morning song.

 
 
 

A crooked pine tree
 
atop the winter mountain
 
holds a scolding crow.