twilight sky           
             one by one
we flatten into silhouettes 

talking to the morning sky
why does this mynah
disagree 

another dawn
again we greet each other
like strangers

misty winter morning
the warm echo
of the temple bell

long journey
a shifting shadow, a fickle moon,
and a poem with no end 

creeping dusk
what was a pond, a heron
is now sky