incense drifts
during High Mass
         someone's sneeze blessed

hydrangea rain...
will I see you again
in my dreams?

Spring Moon —
this year, one more star
in the Milky Way

after the brushstroke,
his head stays tilted
to a sun-dappled sumi-e

my friend’s death day
tea drunk from a galah mug
she gave me

his death notice. . .
the get-well card
still in my briefcase

intrepid hiker
he strides away to climb
the Snout

on the last page
of her last book
the setting sun

lowering sun—
with a turn of my head
the finches fly away

dragonfly
where have you flown off to
first frost

how brittle
the spine of the blue feather
found in his book

      voice of a dark thrush
lingers in the cedars
                               Nikko in mist

feathers in the fire …
a cardinal’s song
between thunderclaps

sundown . . .
the mason jars
empty again

news of her death—

winter moon descending
beyond the trees

swallowtail . . .
    weeds in bloom
        about St. Francis

near a white stone
a bonsai garden
in their memory

funeral service
behind the high church windows
a mast passes by

sweet magnolia
Spanish moss leans
with the breeze

for her this spring
the greengoing woods
still greening

obituary
I never knew
you loved dahlias

snowmelt

waters a blush

of spring flowers

no longer hearsay
finally official
death notice of Rengé

the long autumn and no letter from raymond

finally united
with your snow leopard
flutter of prayer flags

Ripples spreading out . . .
     now only moonlight remains
           on the turtle stone

at the pearly gates
st. peter says with a wink:
"not quite"

remembering her face
in the face
of the swan

gone from the woods
the bird I knew
by song alone

holding the sea shell
next to my ear
his voice from afar

first snowflakes
drinking mulled wine
with a cat in her lap