I should be the one
to tell you about moonlight
falling on the grave
where you lay in the darkness,
and the winter wind blowing.
tanka
The Cross
Thunder overhead.
Lightning diagrams a cross
On the onyx sky.
This light in my eye still shines—
Am I able to bear it?
Pelicans
At first light of day
where the river meets the sea
pelicans plunge down.
I am of no great interest
to them, just as it should be.