this perfect
pink hyacinth spring . . .
fragrant scent
of new-born infants
fills my mind with rain
- in Kei, M. Bright Stars 3, 2014, p. 40.
luna moth
hovers too close
to the web
my young friend too often
writes about death
- in Kei, M. Bright Stars 3, 2014, p. 40
a rainbow
straddling the river
waxes then wanes
you thought you were safe
with a foot on each side
- In The Tanka Journal of Japan 45, p. 20.
two mynahs
weave plastic pieces
in a nest ---
that hint of discomfort
you have in my presence
- In Rice, David, Ribbons 10:2, 2014, p. 26.
reaching
into the river
a willow's limbs . . .
your long distance call
after fifty years
- In Babusci, Pamela, Moonbathing 11, 2014, p. 8.
