by phillipw | Jan 13, 2023 | CH
The Pink-cloud Morning These branches first saw April air before They saw the buds and cherry blossoms. Bare They looked upon March winds which barks ignore. Inside of those wrapped hard is pink aware Of promise and fulfilment. Later years Will show them...
by phillipw | Jan 13, 2023 | AR, BL, MO
Unlike Us Who Shrivel Separately The morning glories Brandish side by side and then They wither, wither. ~ Hokushi (Englished by Phillip Whidden) It is as if the vines and tendrils grow Because some God thinks He has made...
by phillipw | Jan 13, 2023 | CA, LO
After the Regicide The cats scream out soprano, tenor love And desperate alto love beneath. They know A deeper meaning, one of passion, shove And claws we humans have forgotten. So Intense their hatred which they wrap up in Their wooing that we feel...
by phillipw | Jan 13, 2023 | MO, RE
By the Stone Path The morning glories do not have to pray Or chant a sutra in a scarlet voice In sunlight, do not even need a sway From breezes. They are holiness, no choice Or sacred regimen, the sort that monks Or nuns indulge required. Blooms’...
by phillipw | Jan 12, 2023 | Uncategorized
Higher Still and Higher Cold saw and breeze, birch Branch: sawdust rises up on Winter wind to limbs. ~ Phillip Whidden The birch tree is an innocent, its white Increased by splatches. Maybe even black Is innocent the...
