Rush

He seeks wasabi pain,
the recluse who loves people.
His way to feel life.

Summertime II

July breezes whisk
fresh cut green blades off knees;
Summer heat here soon.

Summertime

Cicadas singing
in stereo, as sweet sweat
falls in joint rhythm

Welcome, little one

I look at her face,
eyes different, nose the same;
Body amalgam!