All that has gone
left us its deepest beauty-

our eyes are softer

Footsteps in the dark
slowly disappearing-
leaving us

Above the stove
a string of New Year's cards
rotating slowly

How light my pencil
on the empty page
after the sesshin

Grey morning
christmas lights in the fir
raindrops

Morning sun
raindrops on the fir
Christmas lights

She pricked me
when I put her in a vase
the last rose

Friday evening
two cars in the carpool place
windows steamed up

Winter's evening-
what happened to the bees
of this candle?

The whole garden
bequeathed all its colors
to this last rose

All alone
a child's voice broke
their silence

It's raining
there is nothing else
on the path

Winter sun
on the mantelpiece
his dog's picture

Yesterday evening
lights in every room
new neighbours

Pressing MUTE
on the remote control
the rain louder

The barn by night
the hand holding the lamp
in deepest darkness

Fifty three
still wanting to make
my mom laugh

Again
I learn to walk slow
from my father

Full moon
how simple
life now

Sunday morning
stirring a madrigal
through my coffee

On her twelfth birthday
she wore her mother's sneakers-
also twelve years old

He was killed straight off
at his own birthday party
his new computer game

Insomnia
my smartphone synchronizes
in vain

I left
heading into the storm
and return in silence

The raincloud
trailing its veil along
an abandoned bride

Sky
fog
lost in translation

Tonight again
he is flickering about
her shadow

Summer pictures
how decadent their green
this autumn day

In shatters
beneath the ginkgo
old sun

Without their leaves
the ginkgo branches are
pointing everywhere

The morning sun
brings the temple tree
into my room

A bare branch
reaching for the eaves
of the temple

Evening star
far out at sea
a seagull

Advent
an egret
lands here

A swan
cuts the duckweed
with soft clicks

Whithered
blown away
drenched

But their leaves
cán play together
two pollard willows

A leaf falls
how much is enough
today

gagaga
gagagageese
gagaga

His breakfast
with curtains drawn
Monday

Evening fog
from the cathedral
organ music

Autumn
burns with desire
in this birch

Gone, back soon.

She hides
but wants to be found/
desperately

It was a leaf
the last butterfly
remains alone

Moonless night
an old car tyre
frozen white

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The fog
left a necklace
in the web

After visiting hour
the silence in the car
fog tatters

Through the fog
the river flows
to heaven

The evening star
next to the full moon
longing for home

The east wind
already blowing leaves
in the garden basket

In the broom
a yellow willow leaf
is blooming

While she's talking
he pretends to take a sip
from his empty glass

City noise
a swan disappears
in the fog

The brittleness
of these autumn leaves
her walking cane

One axe blow
and all the birds
lost in translation

A low sun
the egret's legs
soooo long

A feather/
from a pheasant cock
autumn

The flag is gone
where does the autumn wind
come from now?

A child's hand
grabs at a swirling leaf
chattering moms

Like a comma
in an unfathomable script
this crescent moon

The grass\
not quite high enough
two hare's ears

On her cell phone
counting congratulations
glowing in the dark

The weeping willow
the ashes of her leaves
through her branches

A walker
in the middle of the street
flashing lights

A rock
took out its tooth
this bamboo rake

A handful of leaves
is blown out of the bush
but then flies back

Brilliant cut
by this cold wind
today's morning star

Every day
she's waiting for a butterfly
this white dahlia

Splinters
in freshly cleaved wood
their impotence

Fall pruning
all my musings
still intact

The roses
in the autumn bouquet
bursting with life

Rain
disguised as wind
in the trees

An autumn leaf
in a spider's web
that is all

Daybreak
the sun and the moon
eye to eye

Sunday morning
a crow croaks
in silence

That low moon
there in my garden
shall I pick her?

The quietness
that only evening brings
and the moon

Autumn leaves
swirling onto the old ashes
in the fire bowl

Evening meal
her only company
the lamp light

Before dark
counting his sheep
from the fence

A molehill
on the palace lawn
beauty spot

The stillness
now the rain stops
Sunday

An angry teen
raking leaves from the path
against the wind

Bowing
for autumn leaves
a young rose

After her divorce
with an old hedge trimmer
tackling the hawthorn

An empty house
only this moonlight
is living there

From his armchair
the old forsythia
in second bloom

More and more leaves
fluttering on his car roof
since she left

Morning sun
shining through the fog
a friend in mourning

Autumn sun
butterflies fluttering drunk
from a rotten pear

The egg-timer
all of a sudden joins
the great tits

Old folks cycling
with his hand on her back
slowly downhill

Low morning sun
delivers fog droplets
from spider webs

Autums leaves
swirling down on fresh hay
children she never had

Fallen chestnuts
morning fog dripping
from the leaves

My sister
offering cigarette smoke
to the Buddha

Mountain pasture
the young horse approaches
fearless and soft-eyed

That puddle
in the cow patty-
is it rain?

In the dead of night
floodlights in the open barn
potato harvest

Our young kitten
eager to see my haiku
awqqqawqqqqqqqq

Off the road
intact and pristine
a dead seagull

My incense cup
Friday I replaced the sand
now a green sprig

My soul
singing so softly
when she's here

In a mountain pasture
with eyes wise like a Zen master's
ruminating cows

For a few days now
we have breakfast together
the heron and I

On the tree
a single rotting pear
butterflies crowding

Stepping stones
in a mountain lake
you and me

Empty playground
summer wind playing
on a swing

With every step
gauging what is underfoot
mountain guide

In their eyes
mountains lingering
my mates

Swans and cormorants
in a row on the bank
a piano chord

Step by step by step
by step by step by step by
step up this mountain

By touch
my lover's hand
beside me

Right next to me
the mountain stream runs
straight through me

The old man
turns his chair to the window
and falls asleep

Raindrops
playing tag
with willow leaves

Aren't blogs
supposed to return
after migrating?

Rose petals
and a dead wasp
in the pond

Crush!
on the path at night
a snail

Out of plumb
reaching for the light
Holy Herb

Dusty books
in a dirty window
my reflection

Grandpa's book
and grandpa's eyes
slowly closing

In the city park
bent over a newspaper
two homeless men

Water rippling
when I touch the glass-
my mother's sorrow

gone, back soon

My eyes
throughout the garden
a dragonfly

In the garden
with my mother
being still

Heron
moves
motionless

Her voice
as wide and light
as a valley

A few drops
are still sunbathing
on the window

Young mulberries
my old mom won't even pick
a single one

A grey heron
like a pencil mark
in the meadow

Looking up
from the screen
evening mist

A butterfly
along the cathedral
higher and higher

CFL's
in the chandeliers
of the church

A beautiful girl
in a crowded coach
subway eyes

Looking
at the ripe grain
I yield

Rowan berries
flooded with the color
of evening sun

For weeks now
this snail inhabits
my watering can

A rain drop
falls in the cistern
and vanishes

The stillness
on the island
deeper yet

Waves forever
offering comfort
to an empty beach

The raspberry yields
to its beautiful eyes
bindweed

In the water
below the fireweed
its petals

Feeling my way
around this strange house
ship horns

Bubbles
in the champagne
her eyes

Hot marmalade
congealing into
a burn blister

A wasp
in a bucket of plums
lost in translation

A collared dove
calling to prayer
from the poplar

The storm
broke its string of beads
rowan tree

Very briefly
then the butterfly
leaves my arm

Dawn
through the storm
a bird

Plastic flowers
at a roadside cross
a butterfly

Displaced
the light flees
the storm

A high swallow
two peacocks on the eaves
remaining kin

Summer night
along the canal
a fish leaps

Drizzle
in grey water
a heron

He takes a bite
from a fallen plum
lawn mower

Funeral card
only the front page
has words

Sea breeze
asks her dress
for a dance

A woollen cap/
on the cycle path/
"Cool, dad!"

Song of songs
over humming fields
a skylark

Door het riet
huiverend
oostenwind

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