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.

Out of inky black...

Out of grey and black,

the moon shows only most of

her smiling face.