Tuesday, October 16, 2007


Only a chirping
Insect told me
It was night,
So bright was the moon

Not until I'd looked
A long time
At the new snow
Did I wash my face

At dawn my castle
Was stormed
By a flight of ducks
Quacking in a mist

Deftly the new moon
A silver haiku
On the tips of waves

Chanting a prayer,
My heart is twined
In garlands
Of morning-glories

Since my house
Burned down, I now own
A better view
Of the rising moon

What does this mean?
And jonquils
Blooming together!

Carefully putting
His goldfish bowl
On the path
He ran to a fire

Butterfly! These words
From my brush
Are not flowers...
Only their shadows

Broken and broken
Again on the sea,
The moon
So easily mends



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