Hi! My little hut Is newly-thatched I see... Blue morning-glories
Describe plum-blossoms? Better than my verses...white Wordless Butterflies
Why so scrawny, cat? Starving for fat fish or mice... Or backyard love?
Arise from sleep, old cat, And with great yawns and stretchings... Amble out for love
On the Death of his Child Dew Evaporates And all our world is dew...so dear, So fresh, so fleeting
In the city fields Contemplating cherry-trees... Strangers are like friends
Dead my old fine hopes And dry my dreaming but still... Iris, blue each spring
Twilight whippoorwill... Whistle on, sweet deepener Of dark loneliness
Many solemn nights Blond moon, we stand and marvel... Sleeping our noons away
Such a little child To send to be a priestling... Icy poverty
All Heaven and Earth Flowered white obliterate... Snow...unceasing snow
April's air stirs in Willow-leaves...a butterfly Floats and balances
