Written even further back than the others!

Warm night, crescent moon,
a heron near the lake—
Is he lonely?

Pulling weeds at dusk...

Pulling weeds at dusk --
a tiny lizard escapes
the next handful.


Pulling weeds at dusk --
winds blow clouds --
white crescent moon.


Pulling weeds at dusk,
I smile at small lizards
who scurry away.