Wild Geese

The wild geese, too
regret their late morning start


Be serious
about your sake
or all but


Rain-washed:
the cool rattle
of pine cicadas


By two,
by fours the crows in the snow
at Koromogawa


As if we were deaf...
the flowers arrange their faces
in the morning fog

            --Lenore Mayhew and William McNaughton  

ii.

long winter
sharing nothing with each other
we bump bearing blossoms


parents older than I
are now my children
the same cicadas


not yet spring
ice is still upon the rocks
yet kisses are bitter

            --Jane Reichold

iii.

To listen,
fine not to listen, fine too...
nightingale


Morning snow
where can I throw away
the tea leaves? 


Made lightly that promise;
she is alone,
Winter peony


Rice paddies
wild fields again
in winter rain


In spring rain
much better looking
...everything
            

            --Lenore Mayhew
               Reichold, Jane, Those Women Writing Haiku