Autumn

Falling

Through the night

Unquiet leaves

Unseen

 

Dreaming

Two doves

Dreaming

Soft your hands

Light on my body

 

A fire

To dream

A flower

 

A garden

Joys

Birds in a nest

 

Two birds

Together

An innocence

 

Dandelions

In a field

And the sky

Almost violet

 

The mountain

Waiting for the bees

To make honey

 

Middle of the stream

Sound

For a hut

 A hut between the moon and the mountain

 

The moon

Peacefully dropping

In the morning

Doves

 

In the mountains

My dear

Again detained

By strange affection

A song of first snow-fall 

 

Eve of morning moon-light

 

Robe

Loosely draped

The waiting

Darkness of your eyes

 

Moon

Admiring

The mountain

My walking stick

The palm

By the desert

A charming camel

Oasis 

 

Fish already drying

In the sun

A fisherman

Another catch to sell

The light 

In the net

On the water

A fisherman

Gathering shadows 

 

Noah

Your eyes are too close together

Two of everything

 

The lantern

Of the temple

Kanzeon

A bloom in winter

The dove

Of the temple

From Sensoji

Passing thru the curtains

At Kiyomizudera

My love

The beauty of her face

Heart-shaped

 

The ice

On the peak

Unmoved

Under the clouds

 

A breeze

Crossing a bridge

A man and a woman—

Only the willow

Thinking of Paris

 

Snow

Still on the peak

The whiteness of a crane

 

The night sky

A diamond

Mine

 

The sun

A gull coursing

From heart to hand

Over the seas

 

The bell

The pine

A teahouse

Undivided

 

Morning mist

Faded

A straw raincoat

Becoming silk of spring

 

Autumn

After a bath

I watch you comb your hair

 

A priest

Dreaming of wistaria

A tin of tooth dye

Under his pillow

 

There are too many

Butterflies at the pond

Thought the dragonfly

The cliffs

Looking down at the sea

Calm

Grasses and rocks

Waiting for the tide 

Le Mont St. Michel

 

A tide

Of steeples

One with the grain

Of sand—

Mostly water and light

 

The expression

Of the moon

In the whiteness

Of the mask

On the face

 

The snow

Falling

For an admirer

Of pure white

Faces

 

Still the fragrance

And the rustling

Of the silk

Did not yet diminish

Her beauty