Orange leaves blowing in the wind

Eating apple pie.

All the kids are bundled up

While tasting snow cream

The cookies are being made 

And the fires are blazing red

Vegetables in the garden

Babies frolicking 

Awake at night—
The sound of the water jar
Cracking in the cold.

The winter sun—
On the horse’s back
My frozen shadow.

First winter rain—
Even the monkey
Seems to want a raincoat.

Winter rain—
The field stubble
Has blackened.

First snow
Falling
On the half-finished bridge.

On the cow shed
A hard winter rain;
🤬 crowing.

The winter storm
Hide the bamboo grove
And quieted away.

Winter solitude—
In a world of one color
The sound of wind.

Awake at night,
The lamp low,
The oil freezing.

When the winter chrysanthemums go,
There’s nothing to write about
But radishes.

The she cat—
Grown thin
From love and barley.

Winter garden,
The moon thinned to a thread,
Insects singing.

Wintry wind—
Passing a man
With a swollen face.

The winter leeks
Have been washed white –
How cold it is!

All this foolishness
About moons and blossoms
Pricked by the cold’s needle.

Still alive
And frozen in one lump—
The sea slugs.

But weirdly nothing is heard

The taste of hot chocolate

The smell is weirdly off

The ice is calming and cold

Golden fire within the gray

Bitter cold numbs away

Ice builds splendid diamond fields 

Wind flows gracefully through trees

Do you hear drip drip falling 

The sky is cloudy 

Flowers grow bees exploring

Week free to do whatever

everywhere i look around 

i can see you shine

The smell of the Morning Air

Warm Wheather and clovers everywhere

Birds Chirping

Sounds like a another day