Up early, dead father in mind, walking my dog
Thinking: “don’t moan, keep going”
Last summer’s plantings under snow
How many seasons remain?
Challenge, inventing hopeful names
Along the road—Locust Dharma
Branch to branch Bodhisatva….
Oh I could kiss you Transtromer—
Darkness against my cheek
Your Haydn, not mine, playing
Under my feet… Piano
For native country
How does it go?