Leaden mirrors blink
Brushing off the night’s last sleep
Promising tomorrow’s
fukushima
Cinnamon spices
As bell crickets swoon
Embed from Getty Images
As bell crickets swoon
Golden fields fall beneath scythes
And burn to heaven
This poem has been submitted to dVerse poets Ch-ch-changes (turn and face the strange)
Summer Tanka #1.15
As the full moon drifts
My new neighbor dressed in clouds
Rests upon the blessed
Air of early summer rain
Sweetened by the dampened earth
Thursday Morning Tanka #3
Rusting leaves collect
In the molding, blind corners
Of an empty home
Dressed in the day’s disaster
Witnessed by these hollow bones
Thursday Morning Tanka #2
Morning passes East
Over turbines and mountains
Brushed in nephrite jade
I inhale the droll passing
Of heavy burdened nimbus
Thursday Morning Haiku #1
Rows of flowers sun
Lazing in the morning ease
Bathed in soft sol glow
Timber
Sunday morning fog
Lingers in the Aizu Air
The buildings downtown obscured
South, just south, of Shinmei
The plume originates
Peppering the harvest air
A couple stand
hand-in-hand
60 years between
now in the street
And I think
- I love the smell
of timber
In the Air
Be there a bumble
Be there a bumble
Flitting by lavender leaves
Drenched in morning dew
To bring the sweetest honey
For the eve’ning’s bitter blue
Morning Fete
Before the world explores her day
and light defines the sill
The padding of a spring-fed rain
implore my eyes to peel
To sit and drape the stark night’s cape
bare, moonless; clothed in clouds
About my chest and naked breasts
To muse her muddled sounds
‘Til morning rays do draw my gaze
on perfect peaks desire
And up like wraiths her ghosts escape
to heaven they perspire
Now I alone – alone at last
find droplets rapt in fete
Her heavy sighs caress the mind
My soothing morning rain
Mild Musings from a Mediocre Man 