On the Asahi Network: http://www.asahi.com/english/haiku/021211.html (Dec 4th 2002) http://www.asahi.com/english/haiku/021225.html (Dec 25th 2002) rumpled tablecloth - a momentary stop in conversation quiet conversation - her hand reaches out to smooth the tablecloth church bells - another car parks illegally empty field - a little brown bird perches on the scarecrow hazy moon - in the wind my neighbour's conversation leafless the inter-twined branches hold the red kite closely worn cushion covers - your perfume lingering sifting the drawer for old love letters - cobwebs in the half-light gray storm clouds and a lone sparrow drizzle - the leaves caught in the window half wet distant roll of thunder - the empty cab light fading into darkness autumn sunset - a single blossom in my row of cacti scurrying away from me a little crab hidden in a seashell sifting the grains so many fall to the ground - grandma's failing eyesight raindrops against my window remembering your hand in mine how easily the breeze moves the leaves -enfolded in your embrace little scrap of paper carried in the breeze - vacant house by the rubbish heap a cat sleeps on a discarded sofa moonsoon rains - torn paper lampshade swinging unevenly winter sunrise from deep in the house songs of praise gentle fingers plait her grandaughter's hair -3rd Birthday his fingers carress first spring daffodil pressed in his diary derelict house - from somewhere the sound of wind-chimes long after the speech -- relieved laughter your smile fading... the colour of autumn leaves moonsoon rains- nearly embracing the stranger on the train mountain-top: sunset fading into the pampas grass little school bag on her shoulders - cradling dolly in her arms half-empty school bag a crayon face carried by the wind in her little hands a dandelion sways - a few seeds remaining light drizzle- clutching her little umbrella closely.. twinkly eyes kissing me with ice-cream lips blurring my reflection two warm palms covered in choclate clambering furniture his every move a replica of hers so many miles away: the evergreens in my parent's home