The dense spread of green sprinkles dews on my tired eyes. For a moment I imagine climbing up the hills and caressing the azure sky! The colorful birds fly kissing the tender breeze.

Suddenly my attention is skewed as the train enters the heavily squeezed city!

bright night--
I walk with the moon
in my dream

memories...
the sea bled
twice today


first prayer...
a cuckoo sings
in the dark


Darjeeling tea…
birdsong fills the garden
with quiet


jungle safari-
a pile of poo
excites the guide

wind pines wet with mist speak

  
slowing down time in circles snow

ready to let go maple leaves tinsel town

kargil war...
some extra stars
in the sky

Cattails Youth Corner, 2018

out of path my walking shadow

after rains yellow cosmos still touching the ground

summer sunset
little boats becoming
silhouettes

summer song
tree branches laden
with moonlight

stormy night
only the cat's sleep
undisturbed

what reasons for the trees aggressive wind

trash bag the remaining chapter of my war history book

online meeting —
my wife pulls out
a new dress

daily routine...
parrots gathering
to trade gossip

travel packing...
my back
protests strongly

one-way street
the fragrance of jasmine
everywhere

Cattails, Jan 2016

receding waves
I become shorter
inch by inch


blooming bud
the noiseless popping
of a dream


Wordsworth fan
daffodils flutter in breeze
on her grave


fading skyline...
the kite brings home
the night 


rain falls
equally on everything
... wildflowers


dandelion
the time it takes for life
to turn around

blue moon for whom the waves roar

overcast-
a cuckoo sings
out of season

jasmine blooms
mother braids moonbeams
in her hair

dishwashing...
she shelves her dreams
with glass plates

Mainichi Haiku Contest 2018: 2nd Prize, Children's Section.

old book...
the dust still holds
a fingerprint

curving into the infinity
of your mouth. . .
every ripple of milk
in this ocean
beneath my breast

the dust
of an old bookshelf. . .
I take in
the fragrance
of another world

now I'm scared
of broken mirrors...
what it takes
to pick up the shards
and make myself again

train window...
the shape of an apology
on her lips

The Heron's Nest, Volume XXII, June 2020

gleaming knife...
edge sharper than
moon scars