











foggy hilltop:
something moves,
striped by trunks.

a cloud shadow
dragged over the hill
like a blanket.

nothing moves
on a Summer day,
but sneaky clouds.

sunlit garden
to distant mountains —
every shade of green.


between snowy banks,
a silvery river
slips through cold mountains.


late afternoon sun
penetrates the pavilion —-
causing napper’s turn.