the distant mountains
are reflected in the eye
of the dragonfly
(Kobayashi Issa, 1763-1827)

beneath fast moving water
the eyes of smooth stones open

stones and water
in conversation
I hear you call me

warm whispers of the prairie wheat
caressed by summer winds

singing of love
she kneads dough for their dinner
- today's harvest

unseen but omnipresent
the cardinal's morning love song

a bell rings in mist
liquefying stones
harvest of old injuries

now wrapped and bound with mint
love long since forgotten

reflections -
in his boyhood collection
one dragonfly

09/16/2011

Author's Note:

This poem was collaboratively created by the following members of the Tadpole Society:

Jim Benz http://www.pathetic.org/library/6008
Laurie Blum http://www.pathetic.org/library/6366
Glen Currier http://www.pathetic.org/library/3172
Erin Eymard http://www.pathetic.org/library/5929
Linda Fuller http://www.pathetic.org/library/6762
Bruce W Niedt http://www.pathetic.org/library/433
and of course, me

Posted on 09/16/2011
Copyright © 2025 Paganini Jones