Poem / 225

He stood waiting for a long time.
The stairs were short, steep
and uneven. All this thinking
does me no good, he thought.
The moments are mistaken for minutes,
for days and weeks and years and death.
A bird flew across his view, reminded
him of the rapidity of a life, assured him
there is no difference between its flying
and his.

Poem / 223

The chilli plants and I

Drink water together, the three of us

Watching the moon.

Haiku / Poem / Etcetera / 219

After only

a little water, tender

touch, and gentle words

the dragon tree in the living room

stretches up to the moon,

more green, knowing itself

more loved.