Blue Willow Bridge
|
|
after tsunami
baby's birthday tree alone--
tiny buds of peach |
ey |
prayer hands open
to release a butterfly |
sw |
stroked by balmy breeze
hard-hatted businessmen
pedal to work |
ey |
the trombone player
a little behind |
sw |
harvest moon rises
breaking the symmetry
of my palace |
ey |
a newly pickled onion
crosses blue willow bridge |
sw |
| * |
|
in each cascade
of autumn leaves
he sees her Titian hair |
sw |
with the billowing laundry
I keep smiling about you |
ey |
holes in great aunt's sari
and nothing quite matches
the delicate thread |
sw |
a film-star had a crush
on her in her day |
ey |
album closed, eyes closed
I take in the waltzing
wild rose scent |
sw |
cicada’s soft stillness
after her labour |
ey |
smoke from
a stolen burned-out car
curls up into dusk |
sw |
a congenial voice
reading the news |
ey |
a pail of moonlight
in each hand
he treads the icy path |
sw |
Mr. Sandman spreads
his colorful umbrella |
ey |
in the magnolia's
dappled shade
the old dog's fitful sleep |
sw |
to the first rainbow
a wagtail from the river |
ey |
| * |
|
hidden Christians
of Nagasaki come out
for Easter Mass |
ey |
shouts in Urdu and
door slams thru the wall |
sw |
squatting down
his resentful gaze at
another aftershock |
ey *** |
Ann Summers' windows
our reflections passing by |
sw |
uncontrollable laughter
teenagers on
a horse-drawn sleigh |
ey |
eggnog in mittened hands
how fast the snowflakes melt |
sw |
tuberculosis...
only the coldest
delights her tongue |
ey |
a trickle of sweat whispers
'follow me down...' |
sw |
two shadows waver
in the gathering dusk
behind a red barn |
ey |
patchouli and tie-dye…
she still haunts his dream |
sw |
past Mt. Snowdon
silhouettes of geese
line the face of Singing Moon |
sw |
echoes of crickets
wrap Wuthering Heights |
ey |
| * |
|
pockets bulging with conkers
the children
home from school |
sw |
a wizened woman guards
the village well |
ey |
rickety door
or rusty back gate?
that is the postman’s question |
sw |
tempted to sit on
the beautiful pea-green bench |
ey |
ripples spread
from the depth of blossoms:
the joy of reunion |
ey |
soundless, without a splash
the tadpole leaves the cloud |
sw |
