Art is a journey into the most unknown thing of all - oneself. Nobody knows his own frontiers… I don’t think I’d ever want to take a road if I knew where it led.

Louis Kahan
    mute cicada—
he, too, perfectly
at peace
    evening cicada—
a last loud song
to autumn
    Hamamatsu beach—
helping out the cicadas
singing waves
    again and again
my same companion…
migrating bird
    autumn dusk—
a pretty little bird
passes by
    bird’s nest—
tomorrow the pine by the gate
will be cut down
    in my robe on the doorstep
surprised by the morning moon
    looking delicious
the snow falling softly
softly