First Snow-falling-on The Half-finished Bridge.

Fresh Spring! / The World Is Only Nine Days Old - / These Fields And Mountains!

Come, Butterfly It's Late- We've Miles To Go Together.

April's Air Stirs In Willow-leaves...a Butterfly Floats And Balances

Spring Rain Leaking Through The Roof Dripping From The Wasps' Nest.

Nothing In The Cry Of Cicadas Suggests They Are About To Die