a single 

thread
the spider’s 
leaving

light 
travelling 
along it

breeze 
sliding it 
back

a whiteness of wings –
from the shore a heron lifts
away on water

***********

egret takes to air
wingtips grazing the lake
gliding on shadow

***********

a piece of the dusk 
breaks off and takes to the air
becoming heron

leaves hardly moving
from the depths of the blue sky
faint trace of birdcall

************

tobi circles once
in the sky above my head
leaving empty blue

************

dull heat of noon –
in the bushes a bird calls
without conviction

************

vanishing into
the dark crevice – lizard’s tail
a startling blue

************

air awash with sound 
insistence of cicadas
the tree’s symphony

************

crunching of acorns 
underfoot on the mountain’s
shadow-dappled path

************

sun low on the hills
plumes of the susuki grass
softly luminous

************

nothing but the cold
no wind, no sky visible
a few flakes of snow

************

always coming back 
to the platform by the lake
and the sky mountains

*************

finding myself here 
home again and with a sigh
the train pulls away

***************

For previous contributions by James Woodham, please see the striking poems and stunning photography here.  Or here. Or here. Or here.