shadows glide across
clouding the cheerful bower
my lone hiding place
counting the days
black crow knocks at the window
cold wind’s hollow voice
early winter night frost--
the door, opening gently
a framed pale moon
paper flags wave in the autumn wind
whispering words and sprinkle letters
words fall to the ground
lights glare from the dark
tree leaf
a wind instrument
smell of fresh coffee
dispels grey negative thoughts
I welcome day light
moonlight a pale mountain hem
steam of a morning tea
strong lunar poems
pull shy stars from the dark sky
heal a broken heart
waves with white blue crowns
bringing message to the shore
from the other side