“The air alive with willow down”
the cat interested only at first
steady breeze shapes young trees
distant mower’s idling purr constant
a sea of white scarred by blue
mud under my feet in boots
the bamboo stand thinned drastically
to some it is the search for peace
the old banana saw selects the best
March (a, untitled)
Gazing at a swirling galaxy.
Countless spinning worlds in space.
Vast gaseous nebulas.
Supernovas blazing and passing away.
And not a bit of it outside
This miso soup.