Paiku

The snow has gone
But the grass
Still feels its weight

Inscribed in a snowfield:
Master trudges, arrow-straight
Circled by joyous, dancing dog

Year over;
Didn't step in the same river
Even once

A warm, gloved finger
Has drawn a smiling face
On a snow-dusted tombstone

My frosted shadow
Walking away
From the sun

Geese
Coming west
Carefully avoiding
The sharp moon

Rain, slyly licking
The names of the virtuous
From tumbled stones

I walk the ridge

While my shadow

Walks the valley

White feather
Doubly white
With frost

That drone
High in your silver morning
Is me leaving

It will rain
Why hurry?
It will always rain

Owl talk

Defines
An invisible hillside

Early train
Hauls tired and empty seats
Up the sparkling mountain

City’s
Grey dawn roar
Tinted with churchbells

 

Piazza at sunset:
A tense equation
Of threadbare, scowling cats

My new shoes

Walk me

A different way

Wind races back
With news of
Freshly turned soil

In Cat’s four o’clock corner
September sunshine
Seems like forever

 

I walk
So as not to
Arrive

Blackberries
Shake small, tight fists
At the north wind