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