Under the Bashō 2017

 

the faint whisper of autumn she leaves unspoken

 

dozens of crows on the wire eating my words

 

how gentle the spring rain on the tail of winter

 

stirrings in the crypt beget a lively silence

 

for the sake of transparency she reveals her ghosts

 

the streetwise beggar cobbles together a few stones

 

without looking she becomes her own mirror image

 

she rejects the common doggerel in favor of the uncommon

 

she sucks the life out of her lifesaver

 

he battens the hatches with a flimsy off-brand