cattails, April 2021
eviction notice
in a sidewalk puddle . . .
a stray and its shadow
搬遷通知 漂浮在人行道上的水坑裡 一隻流浪狗和它的影子
Chen-ou Liu, Canada
starlit night
in the winter hay
still some wind of June
sternenklare Nacht
im Winterheu
noch etwas Juniwind
Benno Schmidt, Germany
bereft among
a myriad of cosmic colors realizing too late
i should have loved myself unconditionally
Pamela A. Babusci, USA
The Street
Carmela Marino, Italy
a robin’s song
the part of the garden
always in the shade
Setting out to go to work, it is still dark outside, hands in my pocket, the mask on my face. The street begins to flow under my feet, the sky over my head, the smell of the leaves and of the night rain.
The starry sky covers all, even the garbage shines in a shimmer of frost. A sense of peace floats in me and this seems to slow down my walking.
bitter cold—
a piece of the moon
in the dirty water
A street lamp turns on and off on the odds and ends, arranged with great care by illegal sellers on dirty cloths on the sidewalk. One step further, in dim light, curved into himself, a tramp sits on a wall, with his companion, a bottle of beer.
Nothing escapes my gaze, I feel each instant of life around me.
the last star—
a stranger prays
to his God
At the pedestrian crossing I catch the eyes of a passerby smiling. What she is thinking? I begin to walk uphill: the blades of grass move together and at the whisper of my mantra under the mask: ”thanks thanks thanks” the screech of a seagull.
winter fog—
the breath of the world
joins mine
Source: cattails: a journal of the united haiku and tanka society
word pond 