Ray Rasmussen Poems

courtesan and monk,
we sleep under one roof together,
moon in a field of clover
~ Bashō
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A warm spring sun, the fields finally free of snow. Yellow warblers, freshly arrived from places south, sing from the just budding trees and shrubs.

An old man works a small patch of ground with a bamboo rake. He’s short, stocky, brown-skinned and has the eyes of the orient. He wipes sweat from his brow, glances up at me and then swings his eyes towards a second rake.
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