Notes: now looking at it, I write a lot about seasons.
the splattered ground next to the library
is red-purple with fallen cherries
yet the rain washes it away.
heat rises off the pavement;
the bright days hearken time
as the sun falls once again.
the moon hangs, gold with silver;
see the orange-yellow leaves
whose fire licks the sky.
snow sits silently;
echoing the great sea
known to bring peace.