paper airplanes soaring
under cotton-candy clouds
the early wind almost
sweeping me away
The Morning Window
Light falls through glass like a held breath releasing, and the day begins whether we’re ready or not.
The coffee grows cold. The birds don’t care.
Evening Rain
The gutters sing their one-note song while we pretend to read our books.
the calling geese sail past
the twilight moon
the more i read
the more i regret
not having just read
Ryokan again
when i forget this world
there it is—
right where i left it!
ignore the words!
there is only the sound of the wind
and of the rain