after Matsuo Bashō

In the nearly sun

    A mist rises on the water

To the now awake


Two bees make honey

    In a flower sweet but still

Alone as welcome


To something alert

    A swan moving in a lake

Upon gold they sit


Observers of light

    There is something electric

In this crest of white


As the bees work

    A mesmerising sound grows

To constant measure


Light on the water

    That sings its song to the dawn

In time to the beat

Leave a comment