October 17
The morning moon, bright with wanting to stay,
On one side of the sky. On the other
The horizon whitens ahead of the sun.
Directly above, darkness. A few stars.
Only the middle of their journey visible.
Fall enters my heart. Camelback crickets
Finding their way into an old house
Still busking their song so well after its season.
Translations from the English 
Lovely, Poet-friend.
Thanks, E.