November 25th

the only tea flowers
I will see this season
are boiling in my tea pot

November 24th

I don’t blame you, bedbugs –
you seek shelter but please pour your anger
on my gentle skin

November 23rd

craving porridge every morning
not of hunger but of cold –
so I put the milk to boil

November 22nd

why roses!
so fresh and fragrant and in bloom –
so out of season

November 21st

around the fireplace –
drinking, friendship and laughter
that break the cold spell

November 20th

in days so short,
man should only sleep and have fun
like animals do

November 19th

are these the same fields
that all summer long we played in?
now they’re growing only frost it seems.

November 18th

there is no redder shade
of red than that of nandin berries
against a sky of grey

November 17th

you can hide from the cold,
you can hide from the snow – but the withering wind
has a sharp blow

November 16th

no, no, no –
sea cucumber is not a delicacy
I will ever be after

November 15th

with soup of turnip
I cure the tragedies of winter –
melancholy and flu.

November 14th

in the winter night
I stay awake – planning, dreaming,
listening to the whispers of the Universe