. . . . . . . . . .
. . . 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

plopping sounds
a tennis ball wilts
over the ditch

heat wave
countless eyes shimmer
over the court

from side to side
a voyeur's eyes

tennis sounds
the increasing orbit
of interest

high noon
time itself sags
on the net

set and match
the bottom seed
fans the ball

in the racket
of steamy court battle —
a tennis elbow

a highflier
suffers two wingmen —
summer heat

tennis fever -
a third baseman asks
"who's on first?"

soft serves drip
from a thousand lips . . .
courtly love

gong fu cha —
a shadow passes between
then and now

summer breeze —
kiwi kigo hung out
to dry

river song twisting through time

southern sky —
from heaven's pointers
a wooden cross

within sight
candlelight crossmembers
an altar

under the mist
i separate land
and sky

cloudless moon —
a poet disinfecting

digitally remastered silence

heaven scent —
summer rain anoints
shaky grounds

death knell . . .
a river mouth
exacts its toll

all innocents . . .
some faces less livid
than others

twilight dusk —
the bruises of life
less livid

with the sea
the rockpool of friends
from my hands

southern cross —
these arms weighed down
with night

tui —
i hear half
its song

roadkill —
the fly-blown voice
of the unborn

breathstop . . .
a praying mantis
shifts weight

another moon —
still the otherness
of her body

her wrinkling nose becomes

never alone . . .
blanket man paces out
the southern cross

haiku moon —
a morepork recites
to its own

under the moon
her hands cup the gift
of her self

from such light caress
a peony's folds

gaping wound —
a poem
without the moon

what of it?
cherry blossoms
and the moon

wild honey —
how the clover glows
in her eyes!

keeping still
I deepen my roots
in the void

my footprint
as if it matters
I once am

rising tide
eyes awash with the moon
two by two

my footprint
soled, souled, sold
silting up