The Oak Tree: Not Interested In Cherry

Year's End Still In Straw Hat And Sandals

Come, Butterfly It's Late- We've Miles To Go Together.

When Composing A Verse Let There Not Be A Hair's Breath Separating Your Mind From What You Write; Composition Of A Poem Must Be Done In An Instant, Like A Woodcutter Felling A Huge Tree Or A Swordsman Leaping At A Dangerous Enemy.

A Weathered Skeleton In Windy Fields Of Memory, Piercing Like A Knife.

Sitting Quietly, Doing Nothing, Spring Comes, And The Grass Grows, By Itself.