No wind, no rain, …
Jane Hirshfield
Today when persimmons ripen …
A chair in snow …
All the difficult hours and minutes …
Little soul, …
An hour is not a house, …
A man reaches close …
There are names for what binds us: …
They lie …
My mare, when she was in heat, …
My life asks me a question. …
I moved my chair into sun …
I sat under shelter in downpours— …
Like the small hole by the path-side something lives in, …
Lie down, you are horizontal. …
I have envied those …
Even the long-beloved …
This first-light mountain, its east peak and west peak. …
even …
Wakeful, sleepy, hungry, anxious, …
On the fifth day …
Once, I …
It waits now for snows to fall …
Perishable, it said on the plastic container, …
You work with what you are given, …
Seawater stiffens cloth long after it’s dried. …
A thing too perfect to be remembered: …
Large moon the deep orange of embers. …
I would like …
There is a moment before a shape …
One day in that room, a small rat. …
November. One pear …
You are trying to solve a problem. …
The woodpecker keeps returning …
Does the butterfat know it is butterfat, …
You change a life …
It is foolish …
Rain fell as a glass …