Somewhere in Ukraine
 
a plum tree is blossoming
 
in a dead man’s yard.

 
 
 

Crows, doves, dragonflies—
 
on summer days these pilgrims
 
sanctify our yard.

 
 
 

A crack in the fence—
 
I can see the grass has died
 
in my neighbor’s yard.

 
 
 

Summer morning walk—
 
I smile at yellow dahlias
 
in a stranger’s yard.

 
 
 

A gentle spring breeze
 
scatters dandelion fluff
 
all over my yard.

 

 
 
 

How quiet my yard,
 
now that the white-crowned sparrows
 
have fled to the north!

 

 
 
 

The children next door
 
try to outshout the May wind
 
that roars through their yard.

 

 
 
 

Blue morning glories
 
have escaped my neighbor’s yard
 
and invaded mine!

 
 
 

ravenous mower
 
gobbles up every grass blade
 
in my neighbor’s yard

 
 
 

The scruffy old cat
 
that used to visit our yard
 
seems to have vanished.