It's right here
after a long day
on my own

What takes shelter
in the sound of raindrops
on the roof window

That pallid skin
from under the band aid
stuck it to me

Between catchweed
and forget-me-nots
a buddha statue

Is it the tree
that's holding on to it-
this dead branch?

Young weeds
again marking the outline
of my garden path

Brake lights
in the rear view mirror
applying her lipstick

Late at night
closing the window
I face myself

Sunday morning
walkers on the beach
driftwood

Hailstones
down in the calix
of the tulip

Young snails
on the young lettuces.
Now what?

Having fun
on the rotating clothes line
kids clothes

At the bakery
a worn-out wallet
trembling hands

A young bull
its tail moving
spring wind

This morning
blossom leaves
float by

The garden table
laid with hail stones
Sunday breakfast

Last night
the sky full of stars
plum blossoms

A duck
brings ripples
then takes them

Fearless
in the hail storm
plum blossoms

Daisies
where last year
blossoms fell

Sunday afternoon
an old farmhouse
in the rain

A blossom leaf
falling in the pond
not a ripple

Easter rain
whatever has withered
comes again

The kid
after one look
about-face

The autumn leaf
now lies in the shadow
of the tulips

Still this snow
refuses to fall
plum blossom

Flowers
in a spring garden
her dreams

Plum blossoms
a half moon rising
not a word

Easter branches
are slowly dying
along the path

Oh, old pond
a frog jumps in
sound of stork