autumn deepens . .
while the moon and I meet
sounds of wailing


deepening autumn . . .
more than I can linger with,
the moon on the lake


sighing willow . . .
dawn goose steps once more
into a dream


distant thunderstorm . . .
heartbeats enter the tunnel
at the end of light


sinking stone . . .
what words left out
speak my name?

fitful sleep —
my desire becomes
the moonlight

endless sky —
the moon for a time
my pivot


autumn wind . . .
a flute enters the edge
of its sound


early snow . . .
a stillborn's coffin
descends softly


crushed silence . . .
magpies too wait out
the first frost


morning frost —
the voice I listen for
in the sun's rising


first frost —
a poet picks up manna
word by word

first frost —
the earth's purity

tunnel vision . . .
I thread meaning
from the dust


from alpha
to the omega —
the way home


deepening night —
a world of names enters
the nameless


sun strike —
the road ahead flares
into light


midnight chill . . .
an incoming tide
but still no moon


a praying mantis
sways in the cathedral
of her hands


autumn dusk . . .
I pass by shapes
I should know


just for now,
a rainbow being
just itself


a leaf's death throes
ride the breeze


digging deeper a death knell untold remains


dust particles —
I drift with my thoughts
through a sunbeam