Way Back When

On my doorstep
happy as an utter fool
I gaze at Mount Hira.

Wind in the arms
of the May-leaved trees,
a chill on my skin.

I think of Cid Corman
and a friend who knows Gary Snyder
cloud on the mountain.

Wind soughing the leaves,
a drop of rain now
the voice of my daughter.

Beer bottles empty
on the doorstep,
pistachio nutshells

and Soseki’s
Kusamakura in Japanese
and English

How come
that single daffodil
trumpeting yellow?

A swallow swoops
first drop of rain on my ear
grey wind from the hills

Even this far out –
omnipresent power lines
ruining rainbows!

The lake so calm
I let the photo take me –
my mind the water

********************
For more by James Woodham, please see the striking poems and stunning photography here. Or here. Or here.