2 03 2009

Sometimes weeks have a theme, and this week, the theme is nostalgia. The melting of springtime brings nostalgia, and it captivates me in dread and in sweet aching:

Night blooming star-flower
unflurls its scent on the wind,
sings like a siren,
ripples the pool
of memory.

I smelled those flowers
wading through the fountains,
bending for dropped pennies
I felt with my cold white feet,
while the amber lights at ASU
kept stillness all around me.

Cricket cries
hard as stars
circling dimly above –
a great prayer wheel
formed of light –

Suddenly, I’m up again
in that ferris wheel
over Tokyo harbor,
the people scattered
like sesame seeds,
their laughter gleams
and chirps from below.




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