A white kitten rolls
In dust, My Grandfather
Remembers how a tiger snatched
His pomeranian in a world, he lost.
I think of revelations,
Barefoot, in the sun.
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Category: Poem
Sneaking past
A moth escapes
A rain shower
Faceless,
Yawning Breeze
Deep in the mist
All mine
Foggy bridge
Deep in fog,
The clatter over a bridge
River stones and moss
Dark forests
Gazing at flowers
I want to sleep
Lingering in your voice.
Spotted in shop windows
Lost in bamboo
Almost hidden in deep grass
My home village
Deep in moonlight
Where a river flows
Solitude in raindrops
And monsoon
Hungry
Once boxed
Deep in the midst
Of falling leaves
Winter fog
Floats off our coats
Baring shoulders
Morning coffee
The night grows longer
Still hungry
Slightly out of tune
In the cool of the morning
Open a bottle of last winter
The drone of traffic
Icy, black trees sway like the sea
Far from earth, a feral season
Dead winter grass
Clutching her winter fan
Dragging my knees
A sultry morning survives
As an empty shell
Rustling
In the silence,
of a winter moon
we wrap up in whispers
unpack an old quilt
patchworked with a scent
of old people
Moon light paper
A winter moon
Gift wrapped
In silence;
Smoothly creased
Well handled
A quiet reflection
Coloured yellow
Red hot coin
Please, please inside
My house is yours,
Hang your masks on the wall
Throw away your armour
The neighbors don’t mind the clatter
They’re all deaf, you see
Their silence hangs
Like a red hot coin, straight from the fire;
A star hanging over them
From it a thousand beam of illumination
Crescent
Whispers in an ancient language
Trees clocked under mist
A half moon lingers
The cat closes his eyes again
And turns his head
