Kōyō

Yanaka Bochi 1

Atop the fluttering gold of the gingko,
a crow chases away small birds.
He wants the glory all to himself.

Yanaka Bochi 2

In keen November,
gravestone flowers grow steely—
at last, skeletal.

Late morning by the Katsura River

Sunlight sparkles on the water
lapping the rocks
beneath the little egrets’ feet.

Hogon-in

Maple tree, you have drawn
quite a crowd with your bursts
of cinnabar stars.

Tofuku-ji 1

Moss on old maples—
the sturdy, grey trunks become
ever more handsome.

Tofuku-ji 2

A slip of the moon
murmurs near the temple eaves:
it is time to leave.

Nison-in

The bell blankets
the burial grounds
in resonance.

Renge-ji

The maple trees by the pond:
cardinal, carmine pink, faded oxblood.
Which of these were you?