Panels

The west window is a panel of marching onions.
Five new lilacs nod to the wind and fence boards.
The rain dry fence boards, the stained knot holes,
heliograph a peace.
(How long ago the knee drifts here and a blizzard
howling at the knot holes,
whistling winter war drums?)

A Little Landscape

A silent, thatched hut deep among the trees—
but the hermit's tracks are hidden, and hard to trace.
It must be that he has gone off alone, lute in hand,
to play in harmony with the ancient music
of pine tree and bamboo.

Brocaded Sash

“I'll untie my sash brocaded with a wheel design.
When you come in the evening, be quiet, my love.”
“Let me in quietly, my darling, let me in quietly.
They've all gone to sleep.”
“Like the cloud crossing the face of the moon,
I see you clearly, I see you clearly.”

1886, St. Valentine's Day

Winter's latest snowflake is the snowdrop flower,
Yellow crocus kindles the first flame of the Spring,
At that time appointed, at that day and hour
When life reawakens and hope in everything.
Such a tender snowflake in the wintry weather,
Such a feeble flamelet for chilled St. Valentine,—
But blest be any weather which finds us still together,
My pleasure and my treasure O blessed Mother mine.

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