THE AUTUMN OF SPRING

Spring has arrived, however begrudgingly,
and the young woman pushes
the older woman’s wheelchair
along the paths of the great park.
Neither speaks, but each knows
this could be the last time they do this.
That shared knowledge paints
each flower in a more vibrant hue,
each fallen petal is quickly
but individually mourned for,
its beauty draining back into the soil.
The older woman struggles hard
to fully capture each view for she
knows that it is possible
that it will have to last her an eternity.

OF BEAUTY

We love the flower, more so
if it adopts the brighter shades
of nature’s palette, and even
tolerate the fern, but only if
it truly honors the greens
it is supposed to bear and unfurl.
We save our spite for the fungus
which reaches up to us
with surprising haste, nothing
this day, fully formed tomorrow
as if to suggest a resurrection
from something dark and dank
hidden below the surface.
Still, we turn our back on it,
wish it gone, find it ugly
and never pause to wonder how it
views us in the early light of morning.

NI HAIKU 二俳句

a great blue heron
watches the morning sun rise
ginkgos awaken


newly hatched goslings
watching the trees take flower
imagine summer



大な青い鷺
朝の太陽を見る
イチョウ覚醒


孵化した新芽
木の花を見て
夏の夢

(daina aoi sagi
Asa no taiyō o miru
Ichō kakusei


Fuka shita shinme
Ki no hana o mite
Natsu no yume)