new year wind . . .
a cloudfront unwinds
its forecast
seeming new
a path of milestones
through tombstones
tribute to john carley
 
wind dance —
a blackbird parts
from its song

new moon —
emptiness tugs
at me

autumn shadows —
my image slips behind
a thousand eyes

in silence
a rose darkens
the night

a black swan
stretches into the mist
silencing heaven

windswept dunes —
what lips pare mine
of words?

dusky sound . . .
my smile enters hers
noiselessly

cloudless day . . .
surface ripples terraform
a stream bed

. . . . . . . . . .
. . . taiga . . .
. . virtually . .
. . . . a . . . . .
. . . haiku . . .
. . . . . . . . . .

windswept rain —
everyone I pass
a Buddha

limpid stream . . .
my eyes hold on
to nothing

mountain mist
almost to see through
not a word to say

mobile call —
the spring in her voice
in the rain

the child I was
singsongs the silence
still to come

dawn chorus . . .
a tui sounds out
the rusty gate

shadow by shadow
an eel rises to the bread —
what breaks this body?

lightning storm . . .
a mantra splits open
the heaviness

sullen rose —
the fragrance of a god's
hidden name