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TRICKSTER
Coyote no longer inhabits the hill south of our city. Yet we know he is there, staring down at the lake, watching the grape clusters fatten on the vines. We cannot see the orange-red orbs of his eyes on a still winter night. We know he sees us. Coyote cannot be found, no carcasses attest…
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RIVER
I know I should find a river and just sit on its banks and stare at the water flowing I don’t have to step in it once to know I couldn’t step in twice if I wanted, so that problem’s solved. And with dry feet, I can walk along its banks with a bit more…
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REFLECTIONS
An elk stands at the edge of a placid mountain lake and sees only the clouds of an approaching winter. A black bear leans over the mirrored surface of the lake and sees only the fish that will soon be his repast. The young man draped in saffron robes looks calmly into the water and…
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ON THE BANKS
The river ignores us for yet another day, flowing despite our presence, knowing the lake awaits. As the rain lets up, the sun appears and sets the water ablaze demanding our attention and we gladly give it. As our jacket shed the last of the cloudy gifts, the wind reminds us that this moment is…
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ENVELOPING
The night wraps us in the faint light of the glowing moon. The snow falls, reflected in the street light’s glow, and settles on the snow fields of recent days that obscure the earth that suffers beneath. We will flee tomorrow and leave the snow in our wake, hoping that on our return a week…
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TRIPTYCH
Origami cranes take to the sky, devour clouds denying winter. Zebra butterflies hover, dance on rays of light never tomorrow The pond imagines itself one day a great lake its shore dreams of spring.
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MUSING (4 HAIKU)
Out the plane window a lake or a sea of clouds Why does it matter? during an eye blink the butterfly spreads its wings galaxies collapse Cats curl in furred sleep the moon crawls across the sky a monk awakens leaves cling to the trees the rivers flow more slowly the stone…
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REVERY
Seen from a great distance the rowboat is a speck on a lake which appears far more like an oversized pond. You are so far off you cannot see if there is a person in the boat or it is merely floating about free of its mooring, imagining itself a water-lily basking in the midday…
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EOS
Tomorrow the morning will arrive as it always does, eating the last vestiges of night, painting the sky in puce and crimson. It will foretell the rain that will carry our dreams down the hill and into storm sewers, eventually to wash into the lake. But in that moment when the sky is ablaze, none…
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YAKUSAN’S LAKE 鐵笛倒吹 八十八
When you travel from home and are asked if the lake on the shore of which you live is now full, what can you say. Will you speak of the rains that soaked your fields and what of the herd of water buffalo come to graze since you have left. The eye sees only now…
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an old writer and his words 