January 2013

her ankles . . .
the path into the mist
so endless!

 

the moon . . .
the moon it becomes
in her eyes

one half
after the other . . .
full moon

rippling
in water's sound —
tadpoles

rainforest . . .
traces of a butterfly
incensing shadows

a tv somewhere
numbing the sound of nothing —
moonless night

 

morning fog —
the brushstrokes of a dream
painting day

 

summer rose —
the fire of its bloom
within its scent

 

these traces of dreams . . .
high winds shaping cloud layers
of indifference

new year leap . . .
the sound of water
near and far

before dawn . . .
a pilgrim among mangroves
sighing mist

 

ancient garden . . .
a slug retraces the glow
of its path

a blue rinse
of withering clouds . . .
wind from the west

 

fossil forest —
incoming waves obscure
another past

 

summer stream —
a mayfly breeding
shadows

 

summer stream —
does the mayfly in mating
know why?

 

summer shadows —
a Noh play unfolds
around me

 

dry winds . . .
a premonition
of green

night winds . . .
the ones that blew
in childhood

at year's end . . .
already the marbling
of her skin

 

pre-dawn chill . . .
backwash from night's flotilla
of dreams

 

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