first blossoms
the heron’s nest
out on a limb

dawn light
on white camellias . . .
the fever breaks

white plum blossoms–
mother-of-pearl on the Korean chest
gathers the dawn

the kite
caught by a tree
still flying

spring breeze . . .
one raindrop nudged
into another

melting snow
I know why
the caged bird sings

a single bark
from below the village
mist rising

morning breeze
a butterfly sways
with the blossom

stained glass sunray
              into the chalice–
   the creaking of knees