More very small poems


Still surface
mirror smooth
the river runs
to the sea

The quest

Dog runs through morning meadow
nosing tufts of dewy grass
delicately industrious
searching for the perfect blade


Deep night
No moon
Star bright

World in a tree

Poplar leaves flicker
a shoal of silver fish
in the ocean of the wind


Aircraft grinds through the clouds
engines roaring, poison-tailed.
Light as autumn leaves
swifts swoop and dive

Mulberry tree

The unnamed tree is umbrella-shaped
That’s all.
Call it Mulberry, I look again, curious,
and a tree becomes a story.


Sunlight turns wave tips to quicksilver.
The kite circles,
watching only the scurrying
in the brown river mud.


Liquid eyes
Calm and dog brown
Look into mine
And see the whole world.