When monsoon rains soaked the soil, that old tree toppled. They cut it out of the roadway, & I went out to count its rings, but found it not with hundreds of rings, but hundreds of trunks -- many no more than twigs. What a mighty tree a pile of twigs pressed together can make, & now it's gone.
the chipmunk flattens, crawling atop battlements as if to glimpse foes
the knotty tree stretches wide to reach light -- strength from warped fibers
a flying fox hangs
from lush vegetation,
reaching monkey-like
sunlight splits
into searchlight sprawl,
lighting in patches
snail on a stone wall remains still for hours on end; on my next pass, gone
gothic cathedral: vault crumbled, floors moss green; nature reclaims
silver moonlight glints off the mid-winter thaw -- shining coldly
Tiger Riding for Beginners 