Each spring,
the cherry blossoms break
from the tree,
unafraid to be homeless,
content to flutter briefly
before wilting in
the gutter or the stream.
Decay is part of their story,
the twist that demarcates
beauty from litter.
Genesis
That evening,
the wind was born in the wings
of a very small bird.
Sometimes the morning
Sometimes the morning
arrives like a sledge.