A wild sea—

In the distance over Sado

The Milky Way.

The snow is melting

and the village is flooded

with children.

Over the wintry

forest, winds howl in rage

with no leaves to blow.

From time to time

the clouds give rest

to the moon-beholders.

Autumn wind—

mountain’s shadow

wavers.

Only a chirping insect

told me it was night

so bright was the moon.

Under my house

an inchworm

measuring the joists.

Harvest moon tonight

repeating itself

in my pumpkinfield.