Roots form a helix.
In slumber, his paws do too.
He has a lion's grace.
Lightning in the woods.
You might as well paint that, man.
He wags too quickly.
The old man's garden
(small) is outdoors. He's inside,
dreaming of meadows.
A darting swallow
Is not so fast, so pretty,
As his wet, licked, nose.
The moon rose at once.
Hung in the sky - a diamond.
His eyes are diamonds.
The egg can not break!
It bounces and perplexes.
He savours its 'yolk'.
Once, a praying monk
Lifted his eyes to me. Winked.
His patience! Vast. Deep.
The old samurai
Stops to breathe in midday sun.
He's earned his reward.
An old machine creaks.
Slowly, he begins to walk,
Sakura-scented.
The mountain's landslide
Did not have nearly the force
Of our shared joy.
the Arc de Triomphe
is too big to be 'a door'.
His cheeks are puffy!!
When you flush a bird
From the trees, it looks at you
And asks 'why here, now?'
Twigs crack underfoot.
The week I took this photo,
He had surgery.
Cherry trees can live
For one or two hundred years.
But sometimes they don't.