for a peacock to look Peacock Flower-like, it must be on fire.
The Peacock Flower [Senryū]
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i stop, mid-run,
because this sunrise
will never repeat.

pink trumpet flowers,
in dense clustered spheres,
break up spring’s blue sky

high tide sweeps
around the beach rocks,
and then they’re islands.

golden trumpet
lives up to its name
when sunrise strikes.
I stared, and stared, into a leaf
until my vision changed.
And I could see the whole, wide world
so artfully arranged.
The leaf, it mapped my universe
from atom to the sprawl.
Compressed, layer-on-layer, there
was one and, at once, all.
But before I could grasp all that
this vision truly meant,
a gust of wind did catch that leaf,
and fluttering it went.