Secretly,
by the light of the moon,
a worm bores into a chestnut.
This world?
Moonlit dew
flicked from a crane's bill.
It is possible that God says every morning, "Do it again" to the sun;
and every evening, "Do it again" to the moon.
- Watching white moon face
- The stars never feel anger
- Blah, blah, blah, the end
and yet the waves still rise
I'll make friends with the moon.
in his self-created darkness
misses the harvest moon
the flowers' shadows
creep eastward.
even the wisteria's fragrance
seems distant.
though far from home:
summer vagrant.
and not yet recovered:
late harvest moon.
bless tired eyes with rest
from moon-viewing.
all that remains
are the four corners of his desk.
a wandering monk carries it
lightly on his shoulder.
frost paralyzes the morning glories.
whitened by moonlight
who is that standing
among the pear trees?
even the wisteria's fragrance
seems distant.
like crows’ shadows
flirt with a lonely moon.