
a shade of orange
that doesn’t exist in nature…
yet - there it is!

a shade of orange
that doesn’t exist in nature…
yet - there it is!

Sun-sparkles on the lake’s far end
look icy cool beneath blue skies,
but Winter shivers, I suspend,
because late Spring is telling lies.

legs in leaf litter,
garden lanterns catch light
that pierces bare woods.

bare branches,
in the Winter forest,
look frost-covered.

through a window:
first ripples of a Spring rain
seen on a pond.

The train is speeding down the line.
Gold Buddha glints in the sunshine.
Jarring is the train whistle’s whine,
we plunge into a dark tunnel.

So many hills I have seen
That grow so soft and thick and green.
Though jagged rocks sit down below
The grass and shrubs and weeds that grow
Through cracks and gaps, in mud patches --
Sprawling wide from tight-knit batches
That stone cannot constrain or kill.

through the Autumn,
one tree holds leaves longer,
then drops them faster.

chilly winter day,
prismatic splotch in sky—
no bow, no ring.

Winter sun
casts long shadows
through dead grass.