New Year's Eve-

the sea and

the cloud

The dishwasher

crammed with lemonade glasses-

slumber party

The dragon

briefly flies along

after the movie

December morning-

a thousand thoughts later

I notice the sun

Her old hand

lights a candle-

the flame quivers too

Boxing Day-

peace on earth

in the shops

Christmas night-

over the peak

the moon

Southerly gale-

the land flooded

with clouds

Monday morning-
her freshly painted lips
avoid my kiss

The battery

of my laptop

is now d

Winter sun-

mother's hand filled

with tulip bulbs

The drunk-

his empty beer can

lost in translation

Dead winter leaf-

now even abandoned

by autumn

A shy moon-

she puts on the first cloud

she finds

A blackbird

next to a half apple-

full moon

Winter-

every sunrise

a spring

Return-

over the empty field

the moon

Birthday-

the first one to sing for him

is a crow

The last light

fiercely holding on-

evening star

Storm-

the stillness

different

In the dark

only this waiting

for the moon

Just as I

look for the moon-

sunrise

Just as I

look for the moon-

sunrise

Rain clouds

and a leaking shower-

Monday morning

Through the storm

through the stillness

the breath

Now the breeze

moves the curtains-

moonlight

His clenched fist

his shackled wrists

his open hand

Now that

everything has passed-

the storm

Always here

where the wood

becomes flame

Heaven
picked up dappercat-
morning fog

Reminiscing

untill first light-

old couple

Autumn sun

in a water-butt

with summer rain

The rain

whispering of

home

Wanting to be

- this is the spot-

somewhere else

Silence

falling everywhere

between the drops

Teary eyed kids

ate all the cookies

after the funeral

Chained

by answers

my question

The sound
before we call it
rain

Autumn

now the autumn bouqet

has withered

Unmoved

by our clinging-

autumn leaf

Frost

on the plum tree

a low moon

The last leaf
blew off the old tree-
her empty hands

Frost

on the garden table-

a low moon

Gusts of wind

leafing through

the bushes

Pensioned off-

he folds the letter

into a plane

In the harbor

old ships and

a full moon

The moonlight

that stayed behind-

fog on the field

03.21

when I look again

04.53

Morning sun-

out from under the grape

I'm raking flames

All that remains

is to turn on the porch light-

storm night

The pond

recovered by

the moon

Exemplary

this slowness

of the moon

The Sunday

after the thunderstorm

quiet and light

Talking

in my sleep-

rain

The silence

lost in translation-

foreign jet

Night-
her breathing
fills me

Old pond gnome-

finally letting go

what flows by itself

This black stone

my companion

in the rain

Through the storm

and the thunder

the alarm clock

Her gaze

lifting

the moon

Raking leaves

from a pebbled path-

getting older

Where is the moon

when you need it-

a low branch

At the foot

of the statue

a fig leaf

His last trip-
shall we put this moon
in his suitcase?

Like refugees

in a windless corner

autumn leaves

All these clouds

take a walk on the wild side

this morning

Walking

into the darkness-

it gently gives way

Geese fly

from outside in

just listen

Her glance-

from under a cloud

the moon

The shadow

of the moonlight

shyer still

My knee-

a ladybug climbs

Mount Fuji

Be quiet-

or you'll scare off

this moonlight

Through my town

the purple horse of sadness

tramps again

Filled water butt-

the moon floating

on top

Prepped again

for new leaves-

garden path

The moon

breathed out-

fog

Quotation marks

around the silence-

two crows

The last drop

falls together with

the silence

So quiet

the first rain drop

a question mark

The confusion

the confusion

untill I listen

Thunderstorm

the heathen in me

awakens

The quiet

of this old fire-

you and me

That first shrub

in autumn colours-

is it blushing?

The conductor

nowhere to be found-

wind through the reeds

Everything

so much stiller-

morning fog

Every time

I drift off

this litlle bird

Fog

heaven on earth

today

The light

when I bring coffee

to her bed

The waves

carried what they could-

kid's shoes wash ashore

Autumn-

my leaves too

turn grey

The taste of tea

the pain in my leg

it is here

Most grapes

are shit again-

blackbirds

Parting-

her old mother

introduces herself

Between heaven

and horizon

first light

The hand kiss

of a dewy rose

as I pass

Moss growing

on every flagstone-

my parent's garden

The door creaks-

the unseen

enters again

That spider web

at the back door-

my detour

Unperturbed-

in the spider's web

a full mooon

The morning sun

with a thousand dew drops

in the grass

A frog

crosses the pond-

a full life

For fifty years

being married to

her solitude

pushing away

what supports him-

his cane

One empty wrap

twenty-three to go-

oh boy..

Mix equal parts

of day, night and dislike-

autumn morning

September-

the sun and I

lie in

Afterwards

too many arms

in bed

Very gently

opening her door-

Sunday morning

A mosquito

with my blood in it-

what I leave behind

Clouds-

after dancing

melting

Me
and the rain
insomnia

Evening sun-
an old man gathering
fallen apples

Monday morning-
on the back seat still
a beach spade

A shooting star-

what will the young couple

wish for?

Now that

all guests have left-

rustling trees

A red butterfly?
It is a rose petal
on a spider's thread

This life-
sneaking up on a fly
already dead

My love

under our sheet-

morning haze

The cursor

keeps stuttering

I, I, I..

Old fence gate-
the honeysuckle wakes up
when I ring the bell

A night moth
against the bug screen-
full moon

The view

leaking roof gutters-

I am not alone

A snail on a blade of reed tipping p o i n t

Travelling-

I understand no one

but the woodpecker

Black kittens-

the temptation of

the dark side

Raindrops

letting go-

drizzle

The book finished-

his eyes still

in transit

Home-

where everything

is embraced

Her eyes

when the white heron

took off

Following

the summer clouds-

my mother

At the edge
of the wheat
the stillest

And what then

if it gets dark-

their silence

A dove lands

amidst my thoughts-

waking up

In the grass

fresh sawdust-

dolce far niente

Insects
in the morning sun-
crazy kitten

A butterfly

in the evening sun-

turning a blind eye

Starry sky-

we talked about

the farewell

The fan
keeps leafing through
the open book

Breathless

even the sheer curtains-

summer heat

Spiders

hate visitors-

cleaning

This pear

on its thin branch-

midsummer

It's raining

geranium petals-

summer shower

A long row

of little watering cans-

school garden

Nothing remains
in my binoculars-
this empty landscape

Parting-
a boat
of stone

Organ sounds
from the glacier church-
to melt thus

Mountains
not reaching
but resting

A yearling
sucking on the fingers
of my writing hand

The serenity
of the boat trip back-
whale watching

Waking up
from translucent dreams-
midnight sun

Vulcano tour
my love by far
the hottest

The soft sun
of her birthday
does not set

This fjord-
the right words
unfindable

Flies
for lunch
Iceland

Dreams

of homelessness

waking up

An empty well

my desires

bottomless

Like wax

in my wings

your smile

In the garden

chalk on a flagstone

'here lies puz'

After each

exhalation

the miracle

Evening wind

a reed stalk's

ballet

Water butt

its single eye

filled with clouds

Ducklings-

my soul turns

into down

Frogs

croaking tatters

onto the night

Deep and old

the water in the creek

at dusk

Silence
when a beam creaks
I split

Motionless
behind the window
the night

Craquelure

in my plate-

father's soup

Hearing

the woodpecker

and her heart

Without

deep meaning

rain

A last song-

the pebbles on the path

grating

Fresh tea-

the scent of jasmine

and rain

A frog croaks

question and answer

identical

Jostling

for a haiku

jasmine flowers

She holds her life
like this reed leaf
holds a raindrop

It is

drenched in light

today

The jasmine

has more patience

than I

Rain and wind

I feel sorry for

the scarecrow

Dusk

a white heron

flies off

Dusk

a white heron

flies off

Stained

with my words

this image

Crossing-

the other shore

remains

In this silence

the comfort of things being

as they are

Warm raindrops

are falling

on my mood

In the sun

a small white pebble

the glacier melts

She suffices

the empty space

next to me

Dressed

in cumulusses

Monday

Ambushed

by that first rose

near the path

Just too much

little grey feathers

in the grass

Five travelogues-

a world arrives

in images: http://vimeo.com/adapterfilm

Even in her vase

she turns towards the sun-

oxeye daisy

Slowly!

The path to the garden

goes through the garden

A dove coos

that's all the breakfast

for today

Heaven

up to its neck

in ocean

Her long leg

from under the sheet

a ray of sunlight

Spring garden-

all the parents

next-of-kin

Tiled path-

even the ants help

tamping

Sometimes the brick

sometimes the masonry sand-

my path

An empty shell-

my best answer

falls short

Her grief

the present tense

of her love

One hoe

the vast field

Monday

Egg shells

what once protected

must be broken

Weeded grass

happily ever after

on the compost heap

The bell rings

children's feet running off

opening the door anyway

Spring garden

all the parents

predators

Somewhere
rain became
blackbird

Spring wind

the still life on the wall

moves briefly

Crush barriers

in the rain

he finishes

Rain clouds-

only knowing

of the moon

Broken

the old brick

bright red

Quiet evening
when I turn off the lights
the moon is turned on

A hail shower-
what remains
my scattered brain

The perfume

of the gardener

"L'Herbe coupé"

Even drizzle

makes the bamboo bow

Monday morning

Every night

reaching for the moon

the old well

His first winter

the garden gnome's cap

a paler red

Down below
in the old well
some stars

The weight
of the morning sun
the stairs creak

A car approaches
the wind through the pines
seamless

Bird song

limbering up

my old body

The yellow
of this rapeseed field-
god was insane

On the table cloth
a few drops of red wine-
all that we left

Strange trees
in a strange garden-
the wind rises

This morning
our neighbour's blossoms
floated past

Entwined

on the table

our key rings

Blackbird egg

a piece of heaven

on the path

Spring rain

in a cistern filled

with meltwater

Hinayana-

in a shopping cart

a Buddha

The pear tree

is now more radiant

than the moon

Morning sun

I'm inside a diamond

of bath foam

Don't touch

those bubbles!

Jacuzzi fart

In the prime

of their lives

blossoms

Drenched
in the sound
of rain

Whispering
our final words
the room darkens

Hazy moon-

how I miss

my love

In the city
the vast stillness
of things

Old sakura
only one branch left
for blooming

A white peony
is blooming silently
next to me

Afternoon walk
watching the flowers
she blooms

Tonight
a car on the hill
for a moon

Over
the blossoms
a bird of prey

Sakura fading
I am too
late

Old tokonoma
a moth offers its wings
as a calligraphy

My wife
in our garden
first butterfly

On the water
withered blossoms
reborn

Dear reader,
The daily rhythm may be broken for a while.
Don't worry though.

Drizzle

and a soft haze

of bird song

Sprouting bean-

it pushes the whole heaven

a little higher

My coffee

on a cold morning

her voice

To see
what she sees
be her

The field

has been planted

he smokes

Cold spring

only the heating bills

are blooming

Young appletree

now its branches reach

across the pond

Homesick

before I leave

half moon

For sale

on the Easter market

dust

Oh old pond

a frog jumps in

sound of ice

Bunny tracks

in the snow

lost in translation

With my knees

against the radiator

spring dawn

This old old fence

its holes no longer

at eye level

Sneaking up

to my window

an orange moon

The geese

fly away from me

when I come home

The wind

and the bamboo

effortless

What a moon!

Even the rooster

is in doubt

The story

about his father-

our empty glass

She and her life

take a bite from eachother-

dinner with friends

This east wind-

was that our Buddha

shivering?

Ploughed fields

as far as my eyes can see

their surrender

Snow flakes

the new violets

have guests

In the snow

after pruning the raspberry

a drop of blood

When drops

no longer matter-

a broken icicle

The only cloud

in this empty sky

is from my chimney

Geese wings

beating some heat

into the east wind

The fountain stops

the darkness in the park

changes

Not yet more than

a sprouting potato

this spring

Cleaning the fireplace
charcoal sketches
of the weekend

After pruning

the pollard willow

a clenched fist

A haiku

jumps in my lap

like a cat

Algae-

the new spring robe

of the Buddha

A vase set out

on the window sill

near the ribes

A hooker

beneath the only street light

that still works

When even the ice
will no longer respond
to his touch

The ice

breathing itself out

in the daytime

Singing

over the ice

a pebble

Checked out

before breakfast

hoarfrost

Everything

from the icicle

in the puddle

Nothing
from the icicle

in the puddle

Icicles
meditating
in the sun

Still life

over the water-butt

an icicle

I mainly see

my own eyelashes

sun on snow

She sings

for the sake of

the echo

The harvest

of all that bird seed-

one finch

Sunday snow

all the wounds

healed again

A chainsaw

sinking its teeth

into the silence

This morning

over the green waste container

a moon rind

The echo
of the temple bell
nothing more yet

In the net

of the fat ball

only wind

Moon crescent

my toe nails

cut

Wet laundry

in the cold wind

Monday

Heaven

falling apart in pixels

hailstorm

February

in each storm night

her rosary

The wind

shakes a little rain

from the bamboo

In the ditch

a dying white animal

the last snow

Breakfast
it's raining
even harder

Last snow

a few swans

fly past

Slowly
they melt away
het footsteps

Slowly

snow covers them again

her footsteps

In the snow
a tangerine rind
is blooming

Moon

everything else

darkens

Winter moon

being at home

in the dark

Dusk

now everything

tilts

Tracks

to where I am now

snow before me

Frozen stars

in the black ice

of the pond

A child's voice

singing back the beauty

of a winter day

Night frost
the grey stubbles
on my chin

Hare tracks

in the snow

a few words

The world
one blank page
no paper today

Incense curling
towards an unknown star
daybreak

Sunday morning
geese are flying through the air
like notes of a hymn

A bird
now and then
thoughts

Thin ice
on the rain puddle
winter mood

Today
even the rain
is in doubt

All night long
rain on the fields
again

From inside
the only light
before dawn

Bird droppings
his new earring
the buddha

The silence
with open eyes
so much deeper

'China Light'-
only her eyes
are more alight

New Year
the guest account
deleted

In the puddles
firework casings
are bleeding out

Fireworks
before nightfall-
to be young

New Year
an open gate
in the forest