I eat in the rain, under the river willows.

I lean on the railing.

I write poems about what I see, for things pass so quickly.

This morning the clouds are thin.
Last night the moon was yellow.

*

Peach blossoms in the river current; ducks below the dock.
A single seagull, tossed around in the wind.

It is beneath you never to forget petty slights.

*