On this mother's day
Thinking of my two mothers;
I was blessed with love.

Abandoned old pot
Still brings its harvest of life
Without any help.

 

As the bee buzzes
Flowers have begun to die.
(It's corny, but true.)

Roosters keep crowing--
Trio with the running stream
And distant voices.

The two have passed me;
Her voice is going non stop.
Then it fades away.

 

Delicate ocean
Of tiny blue flowers swells
In the sun drenched woods.

Buzzing bike passes
Leaving me and the shadows
To our solitude.

 

Round yellow flowers
Hanging like 3-D paintings
Charge no admission.