Thursday, November 22, 2018

letter from Fukushima :: koyomi


a glance and a nod
then right out that door
deep spring snow

the moving guys squat
wrestling the quilt box

ebb tide
releases its grip
on our indiscretion

in a jerry built shack
beneath comma shaped clouds

timid steps
on icy slate, moonlight
through an iron grate

two cocktail rings
merge on top the bar


after we finish
belly laughs
wobble the bed springs

wings of geese beat
auguries on the wind

this new appliance
sends a text
when the colors are done

in haikai spirit
a letter from Fukushima

trumpet vine
and Gospel hymns rise
across the sea wall

a bright sting of salt
in the damp morning air

February 2, 2011, edited

bandit / govindajohn

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