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