. . . of seasons long, still fleeting

solstice of winter—
           bold thief of precious hours
                     darkening my soul

                     pirouetting
           the fresh snow—
oak's last leaf

splitting more wood—
           groundhog's shadow
                     looms in the distance

                     this tree and I
           too long empty shadows
awaiting rebirth

silvery-white flakes
           conceal the blooming crocus—
                     sun is hiding too!

                     beneath a fresh snow
           the forsythia bending—
another saké?

filling our days equally
           with light and repose—
                     equinox of spring

                     alone in the wood
           inhaling spring's vast bounty
wounded hearts still heal

until ladybug's visit . . .
           just another yellow hibiscus

                     nocturnal beetles'
           luminescent enchantment—
lampyridae nights!

fading footprints—
           the tide-smoothed sand
                     reflecting moonbeams

                     widow's lawn—
           last year's leaves bury
the rusted rake